


Home Run

by G33kDiva, palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Baseball Player Dean, Doctor Castiel, Fluff, Gay Sex, M/M, Medical Trauma, Past Anna Milton/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 109,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/G33kDiva/pseuds/G33kDiva, https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: Dean Winchester was living the dream of a Major League Baseball player. On the surface, he had it all... a million-dollar pitching arm, a beautiful twelve-year-old daughter well on her way to being an Olympic swimmer, and a classic ride that left his admirers drooling in its wake. To top it off, the Austin Demons were heading to the World Series. All in all, his life was great.Until the day everything was turned upside down by a tragic car accident that left his daughter, Mackenzie, motherless and temporarily paralyzed. Seeking the best care for his little girl, Dean discovered the Novak Clinic and the sexy ex-surgeon who ran it. Dr. Castiel Novak was everything he was looking for in a doctor, but Dean found himself constantly thinking... Could he be so much more?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters have angst. Once the story gets rolling, Amanda and I want it to become a fluffy rom/com. Stay tuned for Gabriel and Dean's daughter to play the role of matchmakers.

It was the top of the ninth and they were one run away from making it into the World Series. Dean wound up and let the ball fly. He knew the curveball was unexpected. He’d been pitching high and fast all night. The batter swung for the third time.

“Strike three,” the ump shouted. The Austin Demons ran into the dugout and listened as their coach quickly went over the batting lineup. Benny, their catcher and strongest power hitter, was up first. The Cardinals' pitcher was going to use every trick he had to keep Benny from making contact with the ball. Dean stood with his hands clutched to the dugout railing and held his breath. 

At thirty-eight, he was beyond ready to retire. He had dedicated the better part of his life to baseball and he could think of nothing more perfect than to leave it behind with a championship ring on his finger. He worried his lower lip and sent up a silent prayer to a god he didn’t really believe in. 

Benny swung on a low and inside pitch, earning his first strike. Dean’s hands began to sweat. The pitcher wound up and threw. It came in fast and the crack from the bat seemed to echo in the stadium. All eyes watched as the ball sailed high over the right fielder, its trajectory uncertain as it approached the back wall. The entire outfield was in motion. “Please…” Dean said. 

His heart pounded. The crowd was on their feet and the noise was deafening. The announcers were yelling and then, if all of that wasn’t chaotic enough, the ball cleared the home-run fence. All hell broke loose. The Demons were going to the World Series. 

With the game over, the celebrating began. The locker room was heavy with testosterone as champagne was sprayed everywhere. Since they were going to the Series in two weeks, none of them actually drank any... it was more about the tradition than anything else. Dean didn't even question why. If Coach Bobby said they couldn't drink champagne until they won the Series, they didn't. He side-stepped a fresh arc of the sparkling liquid and grabbed his phone from his locker to call the most important person in his life.

"Hey, Princess."

"Hi, Daddy," his daughter's voice was high and excited. "You won! Uncle Benny was awesome."

"Uncle Benny? What about your dad, kiddo? Didn't you see that pitch? That's what won the game, Mac." He closed his eyes and imagined her sitting on the bed in her room. He wondered if Anna had changed it since the divorce. Probably... it had been nine years, after all. 

"The curveball was great. They totally didn't expect that from a geezer like you," she giggled and Dean leaned back against the cool metal of his locker. "I just know you're gonna win the World Series. It's your year, Daddy." The sincerity in her voice warmed his heart. He hadn't told her about his plans to retire after this season. He hadn't even told the team yet, and he had no answer for the inevitable question about what he planned to do next.  

They talked for a few more minutes as was their custom after each game Dean played. "You go to sleep now, baby girl. Daddy's gotta make sure everyone makes it back to the hotel in one piece."

"I'm at Mr. Mike's house. Mom made me come." Dean frowned. Mike was his ex's latest boyfriend... fiancé... whatever. He didn't fault Anna for finding someone else, but Mac was twelve and had always been a great judge of character. If she didn't like the man, he was probably a douche. "I gotta go, Daddy. Mom says it's time to head home. I love you." 

"I love you too, Princess." He hung up and exhaled, shaking off the feeling of anxiety that was probably irrational. He caught Benny's eyes and grinned. It was time to have some fun.

The lounge in their hotel wasn't particularly large and an entire professional baseball team made it seem even smaller. Dean sat on a bar stool observing the room as he nursed his Sprite with a grimace. They were allowed a two-drink limit, but Dean didn't like to indulge during the season. He was more than healthy for a man his age, but in a career field dominated by younger athletes, he needed every advantage he could get. Some of the guys teased him about it, but Dean was perfectly happy to take on the role of unofficial big brother for the team. He usually spent post-game celebrations looking out for everyone else and making sure they got back to their hotel rooms without incident. 

As his eyes skimmed over the room, he couldn't help noticing the divide between the more seasoned players and the rookies. Several of the single guys were flirting with anything in a skirt while Garth, Luc, and Victor were bent over a table looking at something on Garth's phone. Probably pictures of his wife and kids, if Dean had to guess. Benny, the only member of the team older than Dean, had already gone up to his room. Dean groaned when Bobby and Rufus entered and surveyed the room with a single-minded, calculating gaze. They were here to let everyone know it was bedtime. The flight was scheduled to leave at ten in the morning, but Dean knew from experience that getting the team together and boarding a plane on time was like herding cats. 

Resigned to spending another night alone, Dean turned to slide off his stool when he saw him. Hungry eyes raked over his body and Dean winked. He might just get lucky after all. The elevator ride to his floor lasted longer than the cursory small talk between them. Once inside his room, Dean wasted no time in pulling the younger man's shirt over his head. He was a little too slim for Dean's tastes, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He'd at least get to work off the adrenaline from the high of winning the game and the kid would get to brag to his buddies about blowing a professional athlete. It was a win-win.

With no hesitation, the twenty-something dropped to his knees and palmed Dean's cock, already well on its way to getting hard. A practiced hand unsnapped his jeans and the sound of the zipper had Dean licking his lips in anticipation. 

The banging on his door made both men jump. "Christ," Dean shouted. "Go the fuck away." 

"Open the door, Winchester. Now." Was that Crowley's voice? What was the owner of the team doing at his door this time of night? Dean thought it couldn't be anything good and got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Sorry," Dean apologized and helped the younger man to his feet. He held up a finger. "Hold that thought. This shouldn't take long." The guy looked debauched where Dean's fingers ran through his hair and his face was flushed with a mixture of sexual excitement and probably a bit of embarrassment. 

Dean flung the door open and stared blankly at Crowley, Rufus, and Bobby. So, it wasn't just the team's owner... it was also the coach and the manager. This wasn't good. "What's up?" At Bobby's frown, Dean zipped up quickly, but left the button undone.

Crowley was the first one to step forward, pushing past Dean as he snapped his fingers at the other man. "You. Disappear. Now." Dean watched with ill-concealed disappointment as the dude grabbed his shirt and hightailed it out the door. Dean rounded on Crowley. 

"Listen..." The look on the owner's face stopped Dean's impending rant. "What's wrong?"

"There's been an accident. My jet is waiting at the airport and my driver is downstairs." Dean's heartbeat increased and he felt lightheaded. Who? Sam?  _Not Sam_...

Bobby's hand came up to his shoulder and squeezed. "Dean, Anna and Mackenzie were in an accident."

"No... No... I just talked to Mac. She was... She was..."

"Mac was taken to St. David's. She's alive, but in critical condition. Anna..." Dean blinked at him, unwilling to believe the words he knew were coming. Bobby shook his head. "Anna didn't make it, son."

"Dean, you need to get to your daughter." Crowley's words, said so kindly, were his undoing. Crowley was brisk and no-nonsense. He was crass and sometimes downright hateful. He was never kind. Dean's lip trembled and he blinked away the threatening tears. He nodded and looked around his room blindly. "We'll take care of your luggage. Go." Crowley nodded to Bobby, and the coach took his arm and led him out of the room. Dean didn't speak during the entire ride to the airport. The black SUV skidded to a stop by a private jet. He got out and Bobby met him by the steps of the aircraft. He hugged Dean tightly. 

"Call," Bobby said as he stepped away. Dean nodded and ran up the steps. He didn't even take the time to admire the lavish interior. He sat and stared out into the darkness until the wheels touched down in Austin. Another car was waiting for him and fifteen minutes later, it stopped in front of St. David's Hospital. Hands trembling and knees weak, he stepped up to the desk.

"My daughter... she was brought in... Mackenzie Winchester." The attendant's fingers clicked on her keyboard and she nodded toward a bank of elevators. 

"Third floor. The surgical wing."

When the doors slid open, Dean's eyes fell on his brother. Sam squared his shoulders and met Dean's haunted gaze. "They're prepping her for surgery. You need to sign the consent form." Dean allowed himself to be guided to a tall counter. "This is Dean Winchester, Mackenzie's father." The nurse gave him a clipboard stacked with several legal forms. Dean reached to take a pen from the cup next to the window, but his shaking hands tipped them over. 

"I... I can't do this right now..." Dean mumbled. Sam took the clipboard from Dean's hands and scooped the spilled contents back into the cup. 

"Here, just sign your name. I've already filled out everything else." Dean blew out a breath and scribbled his signature on the highlighted areas. 

"I need to see her." Dean could hear the desperation in his own voice. He kept trying to take a deep breath, but it felt like someone was sitting on his chest.

The nurse stepped forward. "You can walk along when they take her to the OR." Dean and Sam followed her to a pair of swinging doors. "Wait here."

The gurney was surrounded by people in scrubs and caps covering their hair. His little girl was so still. He leaned against Sam, accepting his brother's support as he stepped forward. Mac lay pale against the white sheets. Her eyes were glazed, but they eventually focused on Dean. "Daddy," she whispered.

"I'm here, Princess. Daddy's here. You're going to be fine." His hand longed to take hers, but he didn’t know the full extent of her injuries. One of the nurses noticed and gestured that it was okay.

"Mom..." This time her voice was slurred. They must have already given her drugs. 

"Shhhh... I'm right here, baby girl," Dean reassured her, his voice wavering at the end. The doors shut behind them and they continued moving down a long corridor. Dean held her small, pallid hand in his until the nurse gently nudged him to let go. Another set of doors closed and his only child was gone from his sight.

It wasn't until they were seated in the waiting room that Dean thought to ask Sam what happened. "All I know is what I was told by the highway patrol. It was a single car accident. Anna… Anna was pronounced dead at the scene. Mac was airlifted here.” 

Dean stared straight ahead. He hadn't even thought to ask about her injuries. Obviously, they were bad enough to airlift her. All he could think about now was Mac’s first steps… her wearing a replica of her father’s baseball uniform for their Christmas cards… the day she won the state swim championship…

An hour passed as Dean scrolled through his phone. Most of his pictures were of Mac or selfies with the team. Someone cleared their throat. "Mr. Winchester?" Dean looked up and stood. He felt Sam's arm around him. The nurse wore a set of scrubs and her hair was covered with an elastic cap. A surgical mask hung around her neck.

"I'm him... Dean... Dean Winchester," he stuttered.

"My name is Christine Guillet. I just came out to let you know how things are going. Your daughter came to us in critical condition, but we have upgraded her to stable. There was a spinal injury, but the scans show no damage to the spinal cord."  _Spinal injury_. That was the point where Dean's brain ceased to function. Sam sensed his panic. 

"Will she be paralyzed?" Sam asked, fingers digging into Dean's arm hard enough to cause pain.

"With no injury to her spinal cord, that is highly unlikely. However, there is no way of knowing for certain until after the surgery. It is possible that she may experience temporary paralysis due to swelling around the injured vertebrae." she said, her voice soft and comforting. "We will keep you informed. The surgeons are hoping to finish up soon."

The nurse retreated, leaving Dean feeling lost and helpless. Finally, just when Dean was sure he was going to snap under the strain of not knowing what was going on with his kid, a man approached. “Mr. Winchester?”

“Yeah… Yes.”

“I’m Dr. Williams, your daughter's surgeon. Mackenzie is in recovery now. Her injuries were severe, but we've repaired most of the damage. We'll get a better sense of the prognosis when she's awake and we can perform a full neurological work-up.”

"Can I... Is she... What's..." Dean didn't know what to ask, but the doctor seemed to understand.

“She was wearing her seatbelt, but the car rolled several times. She has orbital contusions from the impact when the airbags deployed and some minor swelling on the right side of her head, no traumatic brain injury. As for her spine, the initial assessment indicated that there was no sensation in her lower extremities and she was unresponsive to external stimuli from the waist down. The MRI didn’t reveal any spinal fractures and the cord is intact, but she had major contusions to the surrounding tissue and severe vertebral displacement. We expect the movement and sensation will return when the swelling decreases, but we can’t rule out peripheral nerve damage until we can complete a more comprehensive assessment.” 

Dean was allowed to stay with his daughter in the ICU while they waited for her to wake up. His vibrant little girl, always so energetic and full of life, was barely recognizable. The bruises on her lovely face had darkened and the tubes leading to the machines made her look so small. Her eyes remained closed, but her breathing was steady and her heartbeat was strong. He brushed her chestnut hair away from her forehead, pointedly ignoring the strands hardened with dried blood. “Hey, Mac. You’re going to be fine, Sweetheart... Just fine...” 

The next few hours passed in a blur. He knew Sam made calls from his phone informing Bobby and family members of Mac's status. Anna's parents showed up as the sun was rising. Dean sat next to Mac's bed in a private room. Mrs. Milton gasped softly and hurried to Mac's other side. She took her granddaughter's hand, tears streaming down her face. Mr. Milton stood stoically by her side. The Miltons weren't fans of his. They were very religious and blamed Dean for the divorce, so he avoided seeing them at all costs. Now... he couldn't imagine what they were going through. They'd lost a daughter and their only grandchild was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Dean explained what he knew and they listened without comment. All they could do was wait for Mac to wake up and see what was next. 

Mackenzie woke just before the morning shift change, but the doctor that came in was the same one from the night before. He introduced himself to the Miltons and to his still-groggy patient. Dean watched, breath held, as the doctor ran a pinwheel tool up the arch of Mac's foot. She didn't even flinch. When the doctor held out his hands and told her to squeeze, she did and Dr. Williams gave her an encouraging smile. 

The doctor completed his exam, recorded the results in her chart, then left the room. Mac blinked sleepily as her eyes swept over to Dean's. "Daddy... where's Mom? Is she okay?" Mrs. Milton let a small sob escape and her husband wrapped her in his arms. "Daddy?" Mac looked from her grandparents to Dean, her lips trembling. When her eyes welled up, Dean leaned over and held her.

"I'm so sorry, Princess. I'm so, so sorry." Holding her through the tears, Dean would give anything to keep his little girl from feeling this pain. Having lost his own mother as a child, Dean knew exactly what it was like to be a kid that suddenly woke up to a world that no longer felt safe or right... a world that was a little darker than the day before, his heart truly hurting for the first time as he tried to find his way through so much grief and confusion. It wasn't fair.   

The next twenty-four hours were nerve-wracking. Doctors and nurses came and went. There was no change, but the general consensus was that Mackenzie's condition would improve once the swelling around her spine had gone down. Until then, treatment options were considered and tentative plans were put in motion. At some point, the entire team showed up with stuffed animals, flowers, and books for Mac. Even Crowley stopped by to bring her a large stuffed demon, the exact replica of the team's mascot, Dagon. It was all Dean could do to stop himself from showing the shock he felt when the stoic, British man leaned down and planted a kiss on Mac's head before sauntering back out of the room.

The Miltons were a constant presence and Dean tolerated them until they started making noises about having Mac come live with them. He shut that down quickly and quietly without Mac being the wiser. Mac was his child and he would be the one raising her. He and Anna shared custody, so legally, the grandparents didn't have a leg to stand on. Dean wasn't heartless... he wanted them to be part of Mac's life and promised that she could visit with them often.

It was Sunday, three days after the accident, when the doctors and a physical therapist asked to speak to him privately. He left Mac in the capable hands of her honorary Uncle Benny. Benny was a father himself, so he knew how to keep her entertained without drawing her suspicion.

The small conference room felt stifling as Dean braced himself for bad news. "Mr. Winchester, after a thorough assessment, we truly believe Mackenzie will eventually be able to walk again. For the immediate future, she will require physical therapy on a daily basis. We can arrange for her to..."

"I want her to have the best... no offense," he said to the woman sitting to the doctor's left. 

"I can assure you..."

"The best. Who is it?" Dean wasn't backing down. The doctor looked questioningly at the physical therapist and shrugged. He turned back to Dean.

"The Novak Clinic in Dallas is the leading center for spinal rehabilitation. But I think it would serve you better to stay in Austin. The continuity of care would—" Dean's menacing glare stopped his words. The doctor heaved a sigh of acceptance and stood. "I will have her medical records copied as soon as possible."

Back in Mac's room, Dean googled the Novak Clinic while she napped. The place was founded by an orthopedic surgeon named Castiel Novak who left behind a rather impressive career to open his own physical therapy center. The gallery showed pictures of pools, horses, a huge gym, and several types of therapeutic massage rooms. He took the time to read the testimonials and knew this was the right place for his daughter. He dialed the number on the website. 

"Novak Clinic," a woman's voice answered.

"Yeah, hi. My name is Dean Winchester and my daughter, Mac, was in a car accident. Her doctor said y'all were the best and I need to arrange for her care. The hospital can send her records..."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we are not taking new patients at this time. Our schedule is—"

"I'll pay whatever you want," Dean interrupted. 

There was a slight pause before the woman responded. "This isn't about money,  _sir_. We cannot possibly fit another patient into our schedule. Dr. Novak and Dr. Masters have a quality of care standard and..." Dean hung up. He was fuming. 

Since he arrived, Dean hadn't left the hospital once. He didn't want to leave Mac's side, especially since he was the only parent she had left, but this was different. He needed to drive up there and talk to this Novak guy face-to-face. Dean placed another call and arranged for his personal assistant, Charlie, to pack a bag for him and drive over his beloved Impala. Then he made sure the Miltons and Sam would stick around to care for Mac while he was gone. Dean made his goodbyes, then met Charlie in the parking lot and brought her up to speed before sliding behind the wheel of his Baby. 

As he drove away, Dean ignored the unpleasant screech of his tires on the pavement and gripped the wheel tightly, trying to keep his focus on his mission. His daughter would have the best care possible if it was the last thing he ever did. Whoever this Dr. Novak guy was, Dean was sure he wouldn't be prepared to handle the stubborn Winchester that was heading his way. 


	2. Chapter 2

Three hours later, Dean pulled into the parking lot of the hotel Charlie arranged. He ate in his room and stared at the thick stack of medical reports on his bed. A week ago, none of this existed. Mac was a champion swimmer, well on her way to qualifying for the Olympics. She was a fierce competitor and trained relentlessly, her focus never wavered, and she had always met every challenge head-on. Now, their entire world was turned upside-down and his child was looking at a lifetime filled with limitations. Novak wouldn't turn her down. She was just a kid... this  _couldn't_ be it for the rest of her life.

Dean called to check on Mac to make sure she was okay, then he absentmindedly flipped through channels until he settled on some show about families living off the grid in Alaska. He barely slept. The next morning, Dean showered and put on the suit and tie Charlie packed. He carefully gathered Mac's records and drove to his destination. 

The Novak Clinic was outside the city limits. The facility wasn't huge, but it was spread over a large area. Dean followed the signs to the main office. On the left, he passed a massive barn adjacent to a large, circular riding corral. The office building itself was distinct from the rest of the sprawling facilities. The brick façade and landscaped front created a professional, yet welcoming appearance with shrubs and large rock formations. There was even a man-made waterfall cascading down several boulders, the water ultimately ending in a small koi pond. A lot of money had been invested in this place, Dean mused as he parked in a visitor slot.

Dean stepped into a spacious lobby and paused to look around. The entire place gave off a serene vibe from the glass skylights to the slate floors. Soft music played and lush plants were scattered around comfortable sofas and chairs. At the front desk, there was a pretty brunette watching him. He moved toward her, his strides purposeful and confident. "Can I help you?" Her voice was authoritative and judging by her expression, nobody got past her without permission.

"I hope so," he said, putting on his boyish charm. "My name is Dean Winchester. I called about my daughter..."

"Do you have an appointment?" She was already clicking on her keyboard. "Winchester..."

"Yes, Winchester... and no, I don't have an appointment. I was told you didn't have any available, but I was hoping to let the doctor see her records..." He held them up and waved them a few times. "I thought maybe he'd be able to help us. I came here from Austin and just need a few minutes of his time."

"We are completely booked, Mr. Winchester. I’m sorry you came all this way, but—"

"Please," Dean implored. He was not above begging to get what his daughter needed. "Can I please just talk to someone?" Her expression was filled with compassion, but she shook her head.

"The clinic isn't even open yet. Dr. Masters is out for a consultation in the city. Dr. Novak is taking his morning swim and won't have any openings in his calendar for a new patient until..." She paused to read her screen. "...sometime next month."

Swim? Dean remembered a sign hanging on the wall. He turned his head and saw the white letters informing him that the hydrotherapy center was through a nearby door. "Does he swim here?" He kept his tone conversational and nonchalant.

"Yes. The Novak Clinic has a state of the art aqua center." She handed him a brochure and he smiled, taking it. With a nod, he turned. Instead of going to the entrance, he swerved and pushed open the door to the pool. "Sir... Mr. Winchester... you can't..." He heard her calling to him and figured she'd give chase, so he sped up his steps and ignored her shouts. 

He spied a glass door labeled  _H_ _ydrotherapy_ and went through it. The air was humid and there was a man slicing through the water of a lap pool. He ran around and positioned himself to be at the end when the guy surfaced. The dark head came up as he touched the wall. Before he could turn, Dean called his name. "Dr. Novak."

Dean knew he'd startled the man, but he didn't care. Blue eyes blinked up at him. "Yes?"

Just then, the receptionist came up, breathing hard. She gave Dean a dirty look before addressing the doctor. "I'm sorry, Dr. Novak. This man doesn't have an appointment and I told him we could not schedule one until next month." 

"I'm sorry, Mister...?" 

"Winchester. Dean Winchester," Dean supplied quickly. "Look, my daughter was in an accident. Her spine was injured and... and... " he thrust Mac's records forward. "They told me you're the best. She's only twelve. She had dreams of being an Olympic swimmer. Please... just look."

"Ruby, it's okay. Leave us," the doctor said quietly, his voice deep and husky. The woman glared at Dean, but left without another word. Dean stood still while the doctor waded to the corner of the pool and climbed the steps out of the water. Dean couldn't help noticing his perfect physique. He was obviously athletic. While Novak picked up a towel and dried himself off, Dean looked around. The room was incredible. Next to the enormous lap pool were several individual heated pools designed for therapeutic exercises. The corner featured a larger hot tub with benches around the edge, presumably for relaxing after the patients reached their limits. It was even grander than the aqua room at his team's clubhouse.

With the white towel draped over his tanned shoulders, the doctor approached Dean. He was tall, just an inch or so shorter than Dean. He was ridiculously attractive, but Dean pushed that thought away. This was about Mac. "I'm sorry to barge in like this, but Mac... she's my everything... and I want her to have the best."

Those piercing blue eyes bored into his and Dean couldn't look away. Then Novak tilted his head to the side and he spoke softly. "Tell me about the accident."

"I wasn't there... I was in St. Louis." Dean didn't bother to say what he was doing there. "Mac and her mom, my ex-wife, were driving home and I still don't know what happened... maybe an animal ran out or something..." Dean shrugged. "The car rolled a few times. Anna was... killed." He hesitated. The words were still painful to say, even if he hadn't been on the best terms with her. "My daughter was pretty beat up. The doctors in Austin told me it was a spinal injury, but I'm not sure how bad it really is. I have all her records though." Again, he brought them forward.  Novak wiped his hands on the towel and took the bundle of folders and medical films.

"Let's go to my office." Dean tried not to let the hope show on his face as he followed the other man out of the hydrotherapy room and down a short hall. Dean noticed a spacious, glass-walled gym filled with all manner of rehab equipment and fitness machines. Being a professional athlete, he was intimately familiar with those implements of torture. 

Dean's eyes strayed past the narrow waist and down to the toned ass in front of him. He was wearing a pair of tight trunks that left very little to the imagination. Dean licked his lips and mumbled, "Mind on Mac, Winchester." Thankfully, Dr. Novak was opening a door and wasn't listening. 

"Please take a seat and give me a few minutes to get changed," he said as he dropped the records on the desk. He disappeared behind another door after Dean nodded his acknowledgement. He sank into one of the leather chairs in front of a broad desk that was surprisingly messy. Dean's fingers itched to tidy it up... how could the dude find anything? He shook his head and took in the rest of the room. A few art prints of horses graced one wall while another featured floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with medical tomes. There was a single panoramic window and Dean could see the barn from it. He wondered if Dr. Novak enjoyed riding. Dean kept a few horses on his private ranch just outside of Austin. Mac loved to ride. His curious thoughts turned to sorrow as he remembered that she was currently lying in a hospital bed. He took out his phone and sent her a quick text.

**Text to Mac/8:02AM – Hey, Princess. I love you.**

Before leaving town, he had Charlie pick up a new cell phone for Mac since the other one had been lost in the accident. When she didn't answer right away, he wasn't worried. She would most likely be going through more tests or having breakfast with her grandparents. 

Dr. Novak entered the room. He was dressed in a pair of fitted khakis and a dark blue shirt that hugged his broad shoulders. After sitting down behind his desk, he smiled softly at Dean. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Let me take a minute to look over your daughter's records."

"Take your time. I really owe you for this. I know I shouldn't have taken advantage of your workout time... but Mac needs the best."

"We have a good reputation, Mr. Winchester, but we aren't the best. There are countless facilities that are just as good, if not better."

"For my little girl, I want you," Dean said sincerely. This guy's reputation was spotless and his credentials were unmatched. He just had to accept Mac as a patient. Dean didn't know what to do if he said no.

The crisp sounds of shuffling paper and the louder crinkling of the x-ray films were the only sounds in the room. Dean nervously picked at the ragged cuticle of his thumb. Dr. Novak's voice pulled his eyes upward. "You said she's a swimmer."

"Yes, she's won several state championships and trains every day." Dean's shoulders slumped when he realized his mistake. "Sorry...  _trained_ every day." 

"Right... Well, the good thing is, the muscles she's built up will aid in her rehabilitation. Her surgeon has left clear, concise notes..." He made a humming noise and then stood up. He took Mac's x-rays and clipped them to a light-box mounted on the wall. Dean looked away. He didn't need to see them again. He didn't know what he was looking at anyway, other than the unsettling fact that it was an image of his child's bones. He hummed again and Dean turned his head toward the doctor. He was tracing a fingertip down the line of Mac's spine, tapped it a few times, then faced Dean. "I think we can help her."

"You can?" Dean stood up, the tightness in his chest loosening for the first time in days as he felt a surge of hope. He held out his hand. "Thanks, Doc... thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me... to us."

The doctor took his hand firmly and shook it. "We will do what we can." He released Dean and sat back down. Dean let himself fall into the chair, his knees weak all of a sudden. Dr. Novak pressed a button on his phone. "Ruby, please get Mr. Winchester's information and set up a new patient file for Mackenzie Winchester."

"Yes, sir," Ruby answered tersely. Dean couldn't help the evil smile at her short answer. He probably made an enemy of the receptionist, but he didn't really give a shit. As long as Mac got what she needed, nothing else mattered.

Dr. Novak looked back at Dean. "When Mr. Winchester returns to your desk, go ahead and schedule an appointment as soon as possible." He released the button before she could respond. "I'll hang onto her records for now. You can return to the front desk and Ruby will get you set up for your daughter's first visit."  

"Uh, how long do you think all this will take?" At the doctor's perplexed look, Dean continued. "I’m asking because we live in Austin and I need to arrange for a suitable place to live while she's here."

Again, the man's head tilted to the side. Dean had the brief thought that it was kind of cute. "Austin? Mr. Winchester, I'd be willing to recommend someone in Austin to help you. Uprooting your family and moving here will be quite expensive." As an afterthought, he added, "I should have checked before to make sure, but I was assuming you have health insurance..." He let the sentence drop like he was embarrassed to ask.

"Money isn't a problem. Trust me, the team provides me with great medical insurance. Mac and I will be here for her first appointment and however many it takes to make her better."

"Treatment for an injury like Mackenzie's could take months." Dean did some quick calculations. He had to be back in Austin to prepare for the Series with the team. The first game against the Angels would be in Los Angeles in a little over a week. Bobby, Rufus, and Crowley had given him some slack to deal with Mac's medical issues, but time was running out and he'd already missed one practice. 

"I'll figure it out," Dean assured him. Novak continued to stare as though he was trying to size Dean up, then seemed to shake it off as Dean left his office.

It took close to an hour to fill out all the paperwork for Mac's treatment and Dean was mentally exhausted by the time he got back to his hotel. Mac's text in response to his cheered him.  _I love you too, Daddy..._  his favorite words. He needed to call Charlie and tell her he was coming home. He had a lot of thinking to do. Mac's first appointment was scheduled on the same day as the second game of the Series. Charlie would need to work her magic to get everything handled in time. 

"Hey, Charlie."

"Well?"

"He's going to see her," Dean said, pulling the phone away from his ear as he braced himself for the squeal. He wasn't disappointed.

"When? What do you need me to do?"

Dean gave her the details and then nibbled on his lip. He asked a lot from Charlie and she always delivered, but her job was to keep him organized and run basic errands when needed... it didn't include being Mac's substitute parent. "Next favor..." He heard her groan. "I need you to find a furnished apartment near the clinic. Ground floor..." Mac would be in a wheelchair until Dr. Novak could make real progress with her. "Or elevator access."

"Got it. Anything else?" There was no hesitation in her response and Dean immediately decided to call his accountant to give Charlie a raise.

"How would you like to live in Dallas for a while?" Dean expected her to laugh, but there was only silence. "Look, I need help... at least until after the Series. I trust you to have my back. Plus, you know I'll pay whatever you want." More silence... then Charlie cleared her throat.

"You... you trust me with Mac?" Her voice was hesitant, like there was some arbitrary line between the tasks she normally took care of and the task of caring for his child. Dean thought it was ludicrous that Charlie didn't realize he considered her part of his family. 

"Of course... Char, you have to know that I think of you as family. You're my best friend." He heard a sniffle and thought it was time to move on from the chick-flick moment. "Besides, I figure I have at least two weeks before you two blow something up or hack the CIA." Dean heard her scoff. 

"Psh... like that's hard. I did that shit in high school." She gasped. "Wait, no I didn't. I'm just an honest, tax-paying citizen who uses the Internet in normal, wholesome ways. No malfeasance here." 

"Seriously?  _Malfeasance_... who says that? You're such a freak." They shared a laugh and then got down to business. They had a lot to get done, but Dean was confident that they could handle it together.  

Castiel slipped off his sweatpants revealing his swimsuit. On most work days, he ran two miles and then did twenty laps in the pool. He already said hello to his receptionist, Ruby, and some of the other staff. His appointments didn't start until eight-thirty this morning, so he had plenty of time to work out before seeing patients.

A few laps in, he was startled by a male voice calling his name. "Yes?" He looked up from the pool into a pair of  _gorgeous_ green eyes. The man himself was truly beautiful, but it was his eyes that drew Castiel's attention. They were so expressive... almost as though every emotion he had was showing, naked for all the world to see. It was breathtaking.

Ruby came up behind the stranger, panting like she'd just been running a marathon. After tossing the man a scathing look, she spoke. "I'm sorry, Dr. Novak. This man doesn't have an appointment and I told him we could not schedule one until next month." 

"I'm sorry, Mister...?" Castiel was at a loss. He wasn't used to dealing with people unless they had medical issues. This man didn't appear to be injured in any way, shape, or form.

"Winchester. Dean Winchester. Look, my daughter was in an accident. She has spinal injuries and... and... " He stuttered to a stop and held out a packet of x-ray envelopes and file folders. "They told me you're the best. She's only twelve. She had dreams of being an Olympic swimmer. Please... just look."

"Ruby, it's okay. Leave us," Castiel said, nodding his head slightly to let her know everything was fine. The man didn't appear to be dangerous, so Castiel would give him a few minutes of his time. It was plain to see the father's eyes were filled with pain and worry. 

Feeling far too underdressed for a professional consultation, Castiel reached for a towel and quickly dried himself. He draped it over his shoulders when he was done and led the way to his office. Once he made sure the man was settled, Castiel went into his private bathroom and dressed. He decided to skip the shower to keep the wait to a minimum. This was the part of being a doctor that he hated... his bedside manner was acceptable, but he didn't enjoy talking to people. He had been told that he came across as cold and aloof, but he really wasn't. Meg, his friend and partner, often ribbed him about his lack of social skills. He was comfortable interacting with patients, but their families always left him feeling awkward and out of place.

After reading through the patient file, Castiel put the x-rays up on the illuminator and ran his finger down the view of her spine. He could work with this patient. His mind was already churning with potential treatment plans and the best therapy options. It would be a long, challenging road, but he was confident he would be able to help this one. 

Once he was alone, Castiel reflected back on their conversation, trying to think through the parts that confused him. Mr. Winchester mentioned a team and that money wasn't an issue. It struck him as odd. Throughout his career, he had never encountered a case where he'd been given carte blanche when it came to the bill. He glanced down at the file again.  _Dean Winchester... Austin..._  It was nagging at him, so he googled the name. Page after page loaded, every single one filled with images... lots of them.  

He clicked on an image of him wearing a baseball cap. The image caption said  _Austin Demons pitcher, Dean Winchester, named MVP_. Castiel clicked on more and kept reading, his mind reeling from the surprising amount of personal information.

 _Dean Winchester, pitcher for Austin Demons comes out as bisexual after divorce from Dallas socialite Anna Milton._

_Will Austin Demons pitcher, Dean Winchester, take his team to the World Series?_

_Dean Winchester, star player for the Austin Demons, pitches shut-out against the Red Sox._

There were thousands of pictures with links to in-depth articles about his life, recaps of his career, and even trashy gossip about his sexual partners. Castiel skipped over those and was about to click on an article about Winchester's family when his intercom buzzed. "Dr. Novak, Cole Trenton is here."

"Thank you," Castiel replied automatically and closed his browser. Cole Trenton was an Infantryman from Fort Hood who'd been injured in a skydiving accident. He was lucky to be alive, and even though he would never walk again, he was learning to use his upper body strength to become more independent. "I'll be out in a sec." 

As he strode down the hall, his thoughts were fixed on Dean Winchester. The most recent picture was at a game just one week ago... he led his team to victory over the St. Louis Cardinals, securing their place in the World Series. In Castiel's line of work, he treated many professional athletes. He found most of them to be prima donnas, and despite Winchester's plea for his daughter's welfare, Castiel didn't think the star pitcher would be interested in participating in her day-to-day care. 

He greeted the young man in the wheelchair and his pretty wife, Ellie. The three of them went to the gym and Castiel waited while Cole moved himself from his chair to the table. As a surgeon, Castiel knew the inner workings of the human body and what was involved in repairing it. Over the last few years of providing hands-on treatment at the center, he had gained an appreciation for what it meant to be a true healer. It was rewarding in a way he never expected and gave him a sense of fulfillment after nearly a decade of living the cold, detached life of a surgeon. In this environment, he was free to connect with patients on a deeper level, facilitate their recovery, and give them reason to hope.   

After a successful therapy session with Cole, the rest of Castiel's day was a blur. The Novak Clinic had a lengthy waiting list and he knew Meg was going to have his ass for adding Mackenzie Winchester to their overcrowded patient roster. There was just something about Dean Winchester's desperate entreaty that enthralled Castiel. Maybe it was the fact that the clinic didn't see many children. If it was in his power to do so, he could damn well help a child achieve her dream of being an Olympic swimmer.

At five o'clock, the clinic was quiet as the staff cleaned the equipment and got ready to leave for the day. It was time to face the music. He went to Meg's office and stood at her open door watching her glare at the computer monitor. A soft smile touched his lips. The woman was a force to be reckoned with and he wouldn't have had the courage to open the clinic without her. They met back in medical school and started a tentative friendship after she tried... and failed... to seduce him. Luckily for Castiel, Meg turned down another residency to join him at the University of Washington Medical Center instead. They became roommates and their friendship grew as they both gravitated toward spinal injuries and rehabilitation. When Castiel's grandmother died and left him with an inheritance of several million dollars, it was Meg that encouraged him to open the center. 

"Are you going to stand there all day? Or are you going to attempt to explain why you added a new patient when we specifically agreed not to take anyone else on?" Meg's voice was irritated, but she still hadn't looked away from her computer.

Castiel sighed and slouched against the door jamb. "I couldn't say no, Meg. She's only a child." Meg finally looked up at him, her eyebrows lifted in question. "She wants to be an Olympic swimmer." Her expression softened.

"Well, then I guess that means she gets the Castiel Novak Special." Castiel stared down at his feet.  _The Special_ referred to any swimmer, biker, or runner that came through their doors. At one time, Castiel did triathlons and he was good at it, but in the last few years, he'd been too busy to compete. He still trained every day by running and swimming, but biking usually waited for the few and far between vacations he took. "Guess it didn't hurt that  _Daddy_ was hot, huh?" Castiel's chin came up and he sent her a look that would make most people run for cover. "Hey, don't get your panties in a twist. I was just going by what Ruby said." 

"Mr. Winchester's looks didn't have anything to do with my decision. Besides, he's a professional athlete and you know how I feel about them." Castiel tried not to let his bitter feelings show on his face, but he knew Meg would notice anyway. It had been years since his heart had been shattered, but some things never faded with time... they made fine cracks in the soul that could only be filled with resentment and anger that seeped through at unexpected moments. He didn't know if his preconceived notions about Dean Winchester were justified, but it was safer for him to assume the worst. It drastically reduced the likelihood that he would be hurt that badly again. 

"Yeah, yeah... don't forget that you were a damn good athlete yourself back in the day."

"But I didn't get  _paid_ to play," Castiel responded, crossing his arms. "She'll be my patient and don't worry, I won't ask for your assistance," he added snidely. 

"Fair enough, Clarence." She stretched and stood up. "Want to get a drink?"

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask," a familiar voice said behind Castiel. Gabriel, his older brother and part-time nemesis, clapped Castiel on the back hard enough to send him stumbling into Meg's office. Once he righted himself, he turned to glare at his brother. 

"Goody... the fun Novak is here," Meg said, grabbing her purse. Castiel knew she was teasing, but the truth still hurt sometimes. Gabriel  _was_ the fun brother. Castiel had grown accustomed to his dates telling him that he was too serious, which usually resulted in him not getting many second dates. Meg strolled over to lean into Gabriel's space. "For the record, I wasn't asking  _you_." Castiel snorted a laugh at his brother's expense and followed Meg out the door. 

Their usual hangout was just a mile up the road. It was a quiet place during the week and Castiel enjoyed listening to the older man who played the piano most nights. They hadn't even received their first round of drinks before Gabriel started in on Castiel's lack of a sex life. "You don't use it, you lose it... just sayin'… you don't want your dick falling off."

"Medically speaking, one's penis cannot fall off unless something like gangrene or leprosy is involved," Castiel said dryly. Meg and Gabriel gave him baleful looks. 

"And this is why you never get second dates," Meg sighed dramatically. Apart from the barbs directed at him regarding his lack of social skills or a love life, the evening was pleasant, and Castiel left in an Uber with a full belly and a slight buzz. Since Gabriel had driven them to the bar, Castiel's car was left behind at the clinic. 

The Halloween decorations on his porch gave the house a whimsical appearance. He wasn't the type of person to decorate for every holiday, but he had his favorites and Halloween was one of them. He unlocked the front door and went inside, flipped the light switch on, and sank down on the leather sofa. He picked up the remote and took a few minutes to catch the news before bed. The usual Trump shit-show made up most of the headlines, but then the sports segment came on and it was all about college football and the World Series. 

 _"There is speculation that Winchester won't be pitching for the opening game due to the tragic accident that took his ex-wife and critically injured his young daughter,"_  one of the commentators said. The two others nodded gravely and Castiel wondered if their sympathy was for the child or for the fans who might not get to see their favorite athlete play. 

 _"Do you really think Winchester would give up his chance to play, Alex? I mean, come on, the guy is close to retirement age. His arm isn't going to hold out much longer.”_ Castiel stared in disbelief as the panel went back to discussing the athlete like he was a commodity, not a human being.  

 _"We'll find out, Frank. Coach Singer is holding a press conference tomorrow night."_  Castiel turned off the television and tossed the remote aside. With a derisive snort, he headed to his bedroom. He'd lay good money on Winchester playing, his concern for his child's well-being notwithstanding. Despite his feelings on the matter, he felt a brief stab of sadness for Dean Winchester. Dealing with such a tragedy would be hard enough without also having the entire country watching. Still... wasn't that what the athlete signed up for when he chose to be a professional baseball player? 

The next morning found Dean racing from the hospital to the team's central office. Crowley and Rufus thought it would be best to call a press conference since news of the accident hit the media. With all the speculation on whether or not Dean would be pitching in the first game of the Series, they decided to meet beforehand to discuss their strategy for handling the situation. He pushed open the door and sat down at the conference room table. Bobby and Rufus were already there, along with the team's attorneys and PR team. Dean greeted everyone and a few seconds later, Crowley entered and took his place at the head of the table. When all was said and done, Dean was given the go-ahead to talk to the press himself, with Bobby by his side to field questions. 

In the locker room, he changed into a Demons polo shirt and pulled on a team cap. As he stepped into the press area, he was almost blinded as cameras flashed in his face. He'd been at this for a long time, so he smiled and took his place at the long table next to Bobby. Questions were fired from every direction and finally Bobby stood up. "You know how this works. You raise your hands like good girls and boys and I'll call on you." The room quieted and arms went up. Bobby pointed to a Sports Illustrated correspondent. 

The man stood and addressed Dean. "So, Dean, guess the question everyone wants to know... are you going to pitch the first game?" Dean hid his frown. The first question should have been to ask how his kid was doing. These people were fucking vultures. 

Dean leaned into the mic. "My daughter is doing better, thanks for asking." Bobby pressed his leg against Dean's in a gentle warning. He couldn't help it... his nerves were already flayed from the emotional day he had. Anna's funeral had been that morning, but Dean chose not to go because he needed to stay with Mac. He didn't want her to be alone knowing they were putting her mom in the ground. She was still reeling from her mother's death, not to mention the grief and anger she was feeling over not being able to leave the hospital to say goodbye. They had a long talk about everything, and when Dean told Mac he wasn't going to play, she had a complete meltdown over it and insisted that he should do it anyway. 

The room was quiet as Dean pulled himself back to the present. "I had no intention of playing... my daughter needs me and that's my priority right now. The team owner was cool with it. In fact, he insisted that I take time off to be with her. But Mac is a stubborn kid." He paused. "I guess she comes by that naturally." Polite laughter filled the room. "This morning, she told me if I didn't pitch, she would be disappointed in me. I can't disappoint her... I won't do that. So, to answer your question... yes, I will be pitching in the first game against the Angels." The hum of muted voices grew louder as Dean's news sank in. Bobby pointed to another reporter and then another. Dean was tired, but this was part of being a pro.

A fiery-looking redhead stood up. "Abby Huffman, Fox Sports. With your ex-wife out of the picture, will your daughter be living with you full time? And if so, will you continue to see both men and women?" She raised her chin defiantly. You could have heard a pin drop in the room as everyone sucked in a collective breath at her audacity. Bobby placed a hand on his arm, but Dean had reached his breaking point. He rose and leaned over the table, his fists braced against the wooden surface.

"My ex-wife  _died_ , Ms. Huffman. My daughter lost her mother this week. Do you get that?" He paused to take a breath, but it wasn't calming him down. "My private life is none of your damn business and you can relay that message to your shitty network." His eyes dismissed her and roamed over the faces in the room. "From here on out, you can ask whatever you want about me, my stats, or my team, but leave my daughter out of it. Got it?" The question was loud and sharp and all heads nodded in understanding. He slowly lowered himself into his chair again. 

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Bobby whispered in his ear. After a short lull, hands rose again and Dean answered questions for another ten minutes before Bobby stood and announced that time was up. Dean followed him out the door and they were met by Crowley and the PR team.

"Impressive, Winchester. You managed to piss off a major network in less than thirty seconds."

"I don't..." Crowley held up his hand and Dean shut his mouth with a snap.

"I've always hated Fox. Those fucking cretinous maggots can all piss off. You just win me the World Series so I can tell them to suck my knob and get bent." Dean stood in open-mouthed amazement as the man smirked and walked away, the PR team trailing behind him like sheep.   

"Count yourself lucky. If you'd blown up at ESPN, Crowley would've used your balls as earrings," Bobby said gruffly, but Dean saw the twitch of his lips and knew the coach wasn't mad at him.

"Yeah, well... ESPN would've never asked me something so fucking stupid." Dean was still pissed off about it, but he shook it off as he drove back to the hospital. He'd made the drive so many times, he could probably do it blindfolded. Mac looked up and smiled when he walked into the room. Charlie was already there. "How are my two favorite girls?"

"Daddy, Charlie's letting me pick out our new house in Dallas." Dean looked from his daughter to Charlie, then to the pile of real estate ads on the bed.

"House?"

Charlie shrugged. "The price of apartments is nutballs, so I looked around and found a few houses for rent that were more reasonable."

"One even has a pool," Mac said excitedly. 

"A pool, huh? You do know it's almost winter, right?" Dean teased, but he sat down on the edge of her bed and flipped through all the listings Charlie printed out. They narrowed it down to two, neither of which had a pool. Dean reasoned that Mac would be back home in Austin within a month or so, and with the cooler weather, a pool would be a waste. Charlie promised to take care of the rest and left father and daughter alone. "You doing okay, kiddo?" 

"Sure," she said quietly, fingers picking at the cheap hospital blanket.

"You don't sound very convincing, Mac." 

"I don't want to talk about it." Dean knew she was thinking about her mother, but he respected her wishes and let it go. Instead, he told her about the Novak Clinic and what he saw there, hoping to get her excited about it. She seemed nervous. "What if rehab doesn't work? What if I get stuck in a wheelchair forever?"

"I don't have answers for you, Mac. All I can say for sure is that I'll be there for you every step of the way." He pulled her little body against his chest and held her for as long as she would let him. 

Two days later, he was on his way to Los Angeles with the rest of the Demons. The players were in good spirits and the poor flight attendants were frazzled by the time the plane landed. Dean paused for a selfie with one of them and when she slipped him her number, he just smiled and tossed it once he was inside the airport. He wouldn't need it. Mac was his main priority now... her and his team.

Angel Stadium held a sold-out crowd. The publicity leading up to the big event was filled with themes of Good vs. Evil and the like. In theatrical fashion, the Angels entered in a cloud of white fog and the Demons followed, tendrils of black smoke curling behind them. Dean had to admit, it was pretty badass. He pulled his team together for a quick huddle. "We're going to win this one, guys." The men around him cheered and broke apart to warm up. A giant American flag was spread across the outfield and held aloft by hundreds of people. The National Anthem began to play and Dean held his cap against his chest as his eyes scanned over the crowd. There were a lot of Angels fans here, but he saw a decent amount of Demon t-shirts as well. 

Former First Lady Michelle Obama came out to throw the first pitch and the crowd went wild. Since the Demons were in the field first, Dean got to stand next to her on the mound. She gave him a kind smile and touched his arm. "I'm so happy your little girl is doing better. Please know that she is in my thoughts and prayers." Dean was so touched, all he could do was nod in response.

The First Lady lobbed a nice one and Benny caught it easily. She gave Dean another smile and jogged off the field to huge applause. Benny stood and threw a hard pitch right into Dean's glove. Before Dean could get into position for the start of the game, the announcer began speaking.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Game One of the 2017 World Series. Today, the Los Angeles Angels will defend their turf against the Austin Demons. Before we start today's game, a very special fan has a message for the Demons pitcher, Dean Winchester. As most of you are aware, Dean's daughter was in a car accident a little over a week ago. She couldn't be here, but we have the next best thing. Mackenzie Winchester is coming to you live from St. David's Hospital in Austin."_

Dean stared up at the jumbotron in disbelief. Whose idea was this? Crowley wouldn't have pulled a stunt like this without clearing it with Dean first. The black screen was suddenly filled with an image of Mac's hospital room. Charlie and Sam stood on either side of her bed.  _Goddammit, Charlie_... 

The camera zoomed in on Mac's face. Her hair was neatly brushed and the bruises had begun to fade. "Hi, Daddy. Don't freak out... I just wanted to tell you good luck tonight. Win this one for me!" Her cheerful voice echoed throughout the stadium and her smile lit up the screen. There was a collective  _'Aww’_ rippling through the stands. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Princess," Dean mouthed the words, grateful he didn't have to speak around the lump in his throat. His eyes were shining with unshed tears and he beamed at the image of his beautiful little girl. The screen split showing his face next to hers. The fans for both teams cheered and Dean blushed at being caught in such a private moment. He looked down under the pretense of checking the fit of his glove, then glanced up to find players from both teams standing and clapping. He punched his glove twice for luck and caught his teammates' attention. "Come on, Demons, let's play ball."


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel didn't know why he changed the channel to Fox. He loathed the network for its bigotry and narrow-minded views, but since they were airing the World Series... It's not like he actually cared about sports. He huffed as he flopped down on his couch. He didn't need to make excuses, dammit... he was an adult and could watch whatever he wanted. Besides, there wasn't anyone around to judge him. He lived alone and had never invited any of his infrequent dates home. A pang of sadness struck and he had to close his eyes and breathe deeply for a minute. 

What the hell was wrong with him? He had a good life... a successful career... more money in the bank than he could spend. All the evidence indicated that he should be happy. He wasn't. In rare moments like these, Castiel was acutely aware of how incredibly lonely he was. In spite of his lack of social skills, he craved human contact. He longed to have someone to talk to... someone to trust... someone to love. 

Shaking off his melancholy thoughts, Castiel brought his attention back to the commentator, realizing he'd missed part of the intro. "... _was in a car accident_ _a little over a week ago._ _Mac_ _k_ _enzie_ _Winchester_ _is coming to you live_ _from_ _St. David's Hospit_ _a_ _l in Austin_ _."_

His TV screen was filled with a little girl in a hospital bed surrounded by an IV stand and monitors. As the camera zoomed in, the medical professional in him took note of her bruises and pale skin. Looking closer, he saw a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Green eyes stared out at him... she looked so much like her father. Her message was short but sweet. When they showed Dean Winchester on the pitcher's mound mouthing the words,  _I love you too, Princess_ , Castiel's heart melted. "I will help her," he whispered with conviction. He stayed up for the entire game and was secretly pleased when the Demons won by two runs. 

The next morning, Castiel spread Mackenzie's records and x-rays over the conference room table. He skipped his morning workout so he could analyze the case before his first appointment. He wanted to have a detailed plan in place prior to her appointment later in the afternoon. On a yellow legal pad, he made notes and scratched through them, only to write out the same thing again. He looked up when he felt a presence behind him. Meg was reading over his shoulder, then her eyes were boring into his own. "I haven't seen you this interested in a patient in a long time." She picked up a photograph of the girl's injuries taken the night she was brought into the ER.

"She has Olympic dreams," Castiel said, like that answered everything. And for him, he supposed it did. He still didn't expect her father to be in the picture much, despite his public sentiments on national television. How could he? He was in the World Series and that didn't leave much time for being there when his daughter needed him.

He felt Meg's hand on his shoulder, just her fingertips. "She reminds you of Claire." It was a statement, not a question.

"She's nothing like Claire," Castiel said harshly and began to gather the paperwork around him.

"I don't know about that... she's about the same age and has big dreams. Let's not forget Claire was from a single parent home, too." Castiel stiffened and stood up, shrugging off Meg's hand. He wasn't going to talk about Claire.

"Drop it," Castiel spat and stormed out of the conference room, leaving his partner and friend staring after him, her expression filled with sadness.

Castiel all but slammed his office door. He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. He only had about ten minutes until his first patient and his emotional state was compromised. He leaned back on the door and took a deep breath. Meg didn't intend to upset him, but Claire wasn't a topic he was willing to discuss... with anyone.

Meg was right, though. Claire, thirteen, was a champion Motocross rider and one of Castiel's favorite patients. After her death, Castiel had watched hours of YouTube videos of the girl. She had a wonderful laugh and a great love of life. She consistently beat the boys in her division, but instead of being cocky, she was the exact opposite. Her life was not exactly a charmed one. Her father died when she was ten years old, and she was being raised by a single mother who worked from morning until night to pay the bills and keep a roof over their heads. Thankfully, the girl had sponsors who paid for her equipment and expenses. She was one of the best young riders the sport had ever seen when an unskilled opponent crashed into her. The accident left her with a torn rotator cuff, which was a simple surgery and wouldn't keep her out of circulation for long. At least, that's how it should have gone...

Arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia... ARVD. Four letters that would be ingrained in Castiel's mind forever. The only consolation was that it was virtually impossible to detect until a fatal event occurred. In Claire's case, the rotator cuff surgery went off without a hitch and the prognosis was excellent. She was awake and in good spirits looking forward to diving into her physical therapy regimen. Thirty hours later, she began experiencing abrupt hypotension with no precipitating cause or symptoms. The congenital heart defect had been there her whole life, but had gone undetected until it caused her death. Even then, only an autopsy had uncovered the truth. 

In the aftermath of Claire's death, Castiel had endured accusations of incompetence and threats of a malpractice lawsuit from her mother until he couldn't face going to work at all and ended up taking an indefinite leave of absence. He doubted himself and his ability as a surgeon until the results of the autopsy were released four weeks later. By that time, his grief and guilt had nearly consumed him. Gabriel practically moved in just to keep Castiel from drinking himself to death. Finding out Claire's death wasn't his fault was like a massive weight had been lifted from him and set him on the path to recovery. During that time, his grandmother passed away and he received his inheritance. Not wanting to return to his previous life, Castiel made the decision to open the clinic and never looked back. Until today, thanks to Meg.

Frustrated with himself for rehashing the past, he gathered the file of a young man who'd broken his hip during a stunt on a movie set. It was time to start his day.

After a quick lunch eaten at his desk, Castiel went to the front desk. "Ruby, when Mackenzie Winchester arrives, put her in Exam Four."

"Sure thing, Dr. Novak," Ruby said, without looking up from her monitor. He sometimes questioned Meg's logic... her hiring Ruby for the receptionist position was one of those times. She was brash and guarded the clinic like it housed state secrets. She was good with the patients, though and Castiel couldn't fault her for that.

He didn't want to be standing at the desk waiting when his newest patient arrived, especially if her father was accompanying her. His team was playing in Los Angeles again tonight, so Castiel wasn't going to get his hopes up.  _Hopes_? Castiel frowned at himself. He really didn't care if Dean Winchester ever...

The front door opened and in stepped the man himself, pushing a young girl in a wheelchair. She was looking around at the décor, but Winchester's eyes found his almost immediately. His charming smile made Castiel's frown deepen before he could school his expression to a more professional level.

"You must be Mackenzie. I'm Dr. Novak," Castiel addressed her, holding out his hand. She shook it and took note of her firm grip. She hadn't lost any of her upper body strength. 

"Hi, are those horses yours?" She beamed at him, eyes wide with wonder.

Castiel couldn't help smiling back at her. Since there was no hippotherapy scheduled on Fridays, the horses were probably in the front pasture by the entrance to the facility. "Yes. We have ten horses in our program."

"Cool. Will I be able to ride them?" 

Honesty was something Castiel insisted upon with all his patients, even young ones. "Spinal patients do not normally have hippotherapy sessions. We will mainly be working in the gym and the hydrotherapy room. I know you're a strong swimmer, but your hydrotherapy will have to be assisted... at least in the beginning."

At her crestfallen face, her father added, "You'll be riding Applejack in no time, Mac. Meanwhile, you need to work hard and do what the doc says." Castiel didn't like people making promises they might not be able to keep, but he couldn't very well correct the man in front of his daughter. While there was a good chance the girl would be walking and swimming in a few months, it wasn't a sure thing. Getting her hopes up could cause her to place unreasonable expectations on herself and possibly lead to even more devastation for the girl. He made a mental note to say as much the next time he spoke with Winchester alone.

"Let's go to the exam room and talk," Castiel said stiffly before turning to lead them down the hall. They passed the gym and he glanced over to see his staff of physical therapists working with some of their patients.

"Will I be working out in there?" Castiel turned to answer her question.

"Yes. I will be overseeing your therapy in the beginning and as you progress, you'll have your own PT specialist." Castiel opened the door to Exam Four and stood aside for the father and daughter to enter. 

When Castiel made the move to pick Mackenzie up to put her on the table, Winchester waved him off and carefully cradled her until she was settled on the paper cover. Since he did it correctly, Castiel didn't bother to correct his technique. "I'm going to lift your shirt now, Mackenzie." She nodded and Winchester turned to stare at a poster on the wall of the spinal cord. Castiel noted the healing surgical incision and fading bruises. He palpated the path of her spine, then lowered her shirt. "Since the swelling has gone down, have you regained any sensation in your legs and feet?" While he asked the question, he lifted her left leg and held her small foot in his hands. 

"It tingles sometimes, but mostly it feels like it's asleep," she answered, eyes following every move he made. 

"Try to press your toes into my hand." The sneaker-clad foot didn't move. He met her woeful eyes. "Don't worry, MacKenzie, sometimes it takes a while for the nerves to heal." 

Castiel finished his exam and took her hand, ignoring the other man in the room. "You are strong and we are going to be a great team, you and I. I will be with you each step of the way." She nodded, meeting his gaze.

"That goes for me too, Princess," Winchester said, placing a gentle palm on her head. 

For the first time since entering the room, Castiel addressed her father. "I want to start an aggressive therapy plan for Mackenzie. Five days a week, and then on Saturdays, we'll do massage and heated hydrotherapy to reduce spasticity." He waited for the man to balk at the intense schedule, but he merely nodded.

"Not a problem. We found a house for rent near here and should be moved in by this weekend. Should we get her a special bed or any equipment?"

"My top recommendation would be an adjustable TempurPedic bed. It's more comfortable than a standard hospital bed and will make it easier for her to get in and out on her own. We want to encourage independent movement as often as safely possible. As for special equipment, that won't be necessary. With the intensity of her therapy schedule, her daily needs will be met here at the center. Home will be for relaxing and recouping from the day's activities."

"Okay, when do we start?"

"I'd like to start tomorrow. Saturdays are quiet around here and we can ease into it. I'll start with massage therapy and some simple stretching exercises that Mackenzie can do on her own on Sunday. Monday, we will begin working out in the gym." Winchester's face was a mask. Castiel was testing him. He was very aware the baseball player was playing in Austin on Sunday afternoon. He was surprised when he nodded briskly.

"We will be here."

Castiel got a sense of satisfaction when he was allowed to lift Mackenzie to her chair. He took the handles and nodded to the door and with a pinched look, Winchester had no choice but to open it and move out of the way. Castiel hid a smirk as he pushed her down the hall to the lobby. He sensed the man wasn't entirely comfortable giving the reins over to another person when it came to his daughter. But Castiel thought it was necessary that Mac learn to trust him right away. Winchester would adjust to the change eventually... most parents did.

He stared out the window as Winchester helped his daughter into a sleek, black car. A classic. Castiel was no car expert, but he did recognize beauty when he saw it. He wondered if the Demons would win tonight since their star pitcher was here in Dallas.

With the first game won, Dean's life became even more of a media circus. Charlie was the only one keeping him sane. The swelling around Mac's spine had decreased to the point where she could sit up unassisted without risking further injury. She was discharged from the hospital the morning after the game, just in time for the three-hour drive to Dallas for her appointment. Dean was nervous to have her in the car. Was she comfortable? Would a random bump in the road cause her pain? The physical therapist at St. David's offered her assistance with special padding and even though he asked Mac every fifteen minutes how she was feeling, her response was always the same...  _I'm fine, Dad_.

It took longer because Dean was being overly cautious and drove below the speed limit, but they were right on time for the appointment. Dean had to admit the doctor was good with Mac, but there was a power play going between him and Dean that he didn't quite understand. It felt like he was being tested... almost like the guy automatically expected Dean to be an asshole. Perhaps it was one of the many downsides of being a pro ballplayer. Everyone always assumed it was a perfect life because of the money and the fame, but it also came with a lack of privacy, constant judgments, and a bone-deep loneliness that Dean could never seem to overcome. If he didn't truly love the sport, he would have left it behind years ago.

Back in the car, Mac didn't speak much and for that, Dean was grateful. He was trying to navigate through unknown roads searching for their new house. Charlie found it and arranged for everything to be ready for them when they arrived. The trunk was filled with several suitcases and boxes of things to make Mac's transition easier. He eventually found the right street and saw Charlie's bright yellow Gremlin in the driveway.  _That car_... God, it made his head hurt. With what he was paying her, she could afford something much nicer. There was no arguing with her, though. For whatever strange reason, the girl loved the old heap.

The nondescript house, a bit on the small side, was brick with a large front yard. He pulled into the driveway and looked in the rearview mirror. "We're home."

Mac gazed out the window. "It's small. And there isn't a pool."

"I know it isn't what you're used to, kiddo, but it's temporary. Once you're walking and swimming again, we'll be back home in Austin." He asked the Miltons to arrange for the sale of Anna's house and Charlie was in charge of moving Mac's things to the new house. He suddenly felt overwhelmed. He was dropping Mac off at a strange house and then flying out to Los Angeles. When he landed, he'd only have an hour to get to the stadium. After the game, he'd get on another plane and fly back to Dallas, arriving just before dawn. Thankfully, the team's doc gave him a few Xanax to get him through the flights and help him sleep.

Leaving Mac was hard, even if it was in Charlie's care. He kissed her and promised to be home when she woke up. With a final wave, he got into the Uber feeling guilty and like he was leaving his heart behind. 

In Los Angeles, he was escorted from the airport into a waiting car, where he was whisked to Angel Stadium. His dark mood seemed to spread to the entire team and the Demons lost by three runs, making it one and one. There were no celebrations in the locker room and Dean escaped without talking to anyone. 

Trying to sleep on a crowded plane wasn't easy and eventually, he gave up and just stared out into the night. The lights of Dallas were a welcome sight and he longed for a warm bed. 

Using the newest key on his ring, he quietly entered the house, went straight to the kitchen, and pulled a beer from the fridge. It suddenly occurred to him that it wasn't the wisest decision considering how little time he had left to sleep. He signed and put the bottle back on the shelf. What he usually did after a loss was go out and find someone to fuck around with. Given the current circumstances, he couldn't imagine spending time with strangers when his daughter needed him so much.  

Keeping his steps light, he crept across the living room and down the short hall. Mac's door was ajar and he opened it. Dean smiled. Even at twelve, she loved her unicorn nightlight. It provided enough illumination that he could see her head on the pillow. He let his eyes check over her small form before moving along to his own room. Charlie's door was closed and he touched it as he walked by, his heart swelling with gratitude for his best friend. 

Since Mac needed more space for the special bed and the convenience of a closer bathroom, Dean had Charlie move her into the master suite. Dean's small room was at the end of the hall next to the shared bathroom. He stopped to brush his teeth and splash water on his face, then stared at his reflection for a moment. Damn, he looked exhausted. 

Overcome by fatigue, Dean sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. With a defeated sigh, he took his phone out of his pocket and went straight to the ESPN website. Thankfully, the worst thing they said was that Winchester seemed off his game tonight. He tapped his forehead with the phone and blew out a tired breath. It was his fault the Demons lost. His job was to motivate the team... to lead them. And he failed. 

Without removing his clothes, he leaned back, feet still on the floor, and looked at the ceiling. "I'll take care of her, Anna." He closed his eyes and brought up the image of his ex in his mind. She was pretty and everything he wanted in a wife... at that time in his life. Their first year had been great. He had just advanced from the minors and his career was on fire. She got pregnant right away and they were on top of the world. Anna loved being married to a professional athlete at first, but spring training followed by weeks on the road didn't sit well with her and she got lonely. Mac's birth helped some and Dean tried to be there for her as much as he could. When the season was over, he packed them up and took them on a long vacation in Hawaii. He thought everything was fine.

When he left for spring training again, her loneliness caused tension between them and led to almost constant fighting. Every phone call was filled with her harsh words and resentment. A long line of her infidelities soon followed. It was Benny who finally told him the truth. His wife came to bring a gift for Mac and saw Anna kissing a strange man at their front door. The private investigator he hired gave Dean tons of ammunition, but those pictures never saw the light of day. He didn't want his life to become a tabloid joke. Their divorce was quiet and mostly civilized. All he asked for was shared custody and the house. Because of the damning evidence, she readily agreed... especially when he bought her a house closer to her parents. And now... she was gone. 

He blew out a breath and rubbed his eyes. He hated thinking about his long list of failures. He failed Anna by leaving her alone... failed Mac by not being there as often as he should have been. Tonight's game was yet another failure. Exhaustion overcame his mind and within moments, he was asleep.

"Dad... Daddy?" Dean groaned and it felt like he had to pry his eyes open. The light coming in the window was blinding.

"Time's it?"

"It's almost lunchtime and Charlie says you need to get up." Dean yawned and nodded.

"Yeah... okay... is there coffee?" He sat up and realized that he had fallen asleep in the same clothes he was wearing the night before... he hadn't even moved.  

"I think so..." She didn't sound sure... then again, why would she be? Mac didn't even drink the stuff. He huffed and stood. Watching her turn the chair and roll herself down the hall sent a stabbing pain through his chest and he had to bite his lip to rein in his emotions.

He stuck his head out of the room and yelled, "I'm hitting the shower... I'll need some coffee."

Within the hour, Dean tucked Mac into the backseat of the Impala with the extra padding. He got behind the wheel and headed for the clinic. "Hey, Dad?"

He looked in the rearview mirror and met her eyes. "What, punkin?"

"Why don't you have a girlfriend or boyfriend?" Dean's eyes widened as he wondered what brought this on.

"Uh... well... you know how busy I am during the season. It's hard to find someone who can put up with my schedule." That was only part of it... but he wasn't about to discuss his sex life, or lack thereof, with his twelve-year-old daughter. 

"Like mom," she said softly. _Fuck_. Dean didn't want to do this. Not now... not ever. The truth was, ever since the collapse of his marriage, Dean was gun-shy when it came to relationships. The longest he'd managed to be with someone was three weeks, and even that was something he regretted. It was easier to remain alone and not bring anyone else into his mess of a life. The rare occasions he allowed his mind to go there, Dean realized that being alone might be easier, but it wasn't better. Thinking about it in the midst of everything he was dealing with now was almost too much for him to bear. 

"Is that what your mom told you?" Dean's eyes went back to the road, hands tight on the wheel.

"Kind of..." Thankfully, he was nearing the entrance to the clinic and he slowed. He didn't pick up the conversation until he parked and shut off the engine. He turned in his seat to face his daughter.

"Mac... you know you can ask me anything, right?" She nodded, but looked away. "Your mom and I had a lot of problems, but my time away from home was one of the biggest." Finally, his brain reengaged and he reached out for her. "Hey, look at me."

She turned and her lower lip was trembling. Now was the time to tell her his decision. "Listen, I have something to tell you..." He took in the alert look in her eyes and continued. "After the Series, I'm retiring from baseball for good. You don't have to worry. I'm not gonna leave you...  _e_ _ver_." She blinked away the tears threatening to fall. 

"You're giving up baseball? Is it because of the accident?" She looked devastated.

"No...  _God_ , no, Sweetheart. I made this decision long before the accident. Your dad is just getting old and his arm isn't what it used to be. I'd rather go out at the top of my game.  _A_ _nd_ , I'd rather be spending more time with my best girl." He pinched her chin and a smile touched her lips. "Now, let's get inside before the doc comes looking for us." He breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't return to asking questions about his love life.

When they entered the lobby, it was quiet and deserted, the reception desk unoccupied. Dean looked around quickly and shrugged. Novak said they should come today, and he had the time right. Just as Dean was about to push on the door that led to the exam rooms, the door labeled  _M_ _assa_ _ge_ _T_ _he_ _r_ _ap_ _y_  opened. Novak stood there and Dean's mouth dropped open as his eyes moved over the doctor. He was wearing a loose gray t-shirt, thin athletic pants, and no shoes. His hair was tousled like he'd been running his hands through it. "I hope you weren't waiting long. I keep forgetting we don't have a receptionist on weekends."

"It's all good. We just got here." Novak was giving him a strange look. "What? I got something in my teeth?"

"No... sorry. I just didn't expect you to be here. Didn't you play last night?" Was that a blush on the man's cheeks?  _Interesting_... Dean didn't take the man for a baseball fan. He sure as hell didn't seem to recognize Dean the first time they met.

"Yeah. I flew out right after the game and got a little shut-eye this morning. I plan on being here for all Mac's appointments." Something unreadable flashed through Novak's eyes, but he turned to address Mac and left Dean wondering if it was just his imagination.

"Today, we're going to do some simple stretches and massage therapy, and then I want to get you into a whirlpool for about twenty minutes. Did you get the message about her swimsuit?" Dean knew the question was directed at him, but Novak still wasn't making eye contact. 

"Yep," Dean answered, accenting the last letter of the word with a pop of his lips. He held out the small tote bag. On his way to Angel Stadium the night before, he received a text from the clinic reminding him about Mac's appointment and to bring her swimsuit.

Before Dean could react, Novak plucked the bag from his fingers and took the handles of Mac's chair. "Hey," Dean responded. Novak stared at him with those intense blue eyes.

"Therapy is usually done without family present. I can assure you that I have an assistant... a female assistant... on duty today to help. Please have a seat here in the lobby and I will return Mackenzie to you shortly." Then the dude smiled, but it was one of those smiles that seemed forced... like he was fucking constipated or something. 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't used to people telling him what he could and couldn't do. Coach Singer and Rufus were the only exceptions. "Look, man, I just don't feel—"

"Jesus, Daddy, relax. I'll be fine." Then the little shit rolled her eyes. Dean's mouth gaped open. He was a goddamn helicopter parent and she never seemed to have a problem with that before. The doctor's triumphant smirk really got on Dean's nerves. 

Watching them disappear behind the door, Dean paced a few minutes before reluctantly sitting down. Thinking about Mac only made him more stressed out, so he focused on the good doctor instead. Who was this guy? He seemed honest and genuine, but he didn't seem to like Dean very much. He didn't understand it. Dean knew he didn't exactly get off on the right foot when he barged in and begged Novak to take Mac on as a patient, but that wasn't enough to make someone dislike him outright...  _w_ _as it_ _?_  

Saturdays were quiet... sometimes too quiet for Castiel. The clinic only opened in the afternoon for a few hours to do non-invasive therapy. Meg and Castiel alternated weekends to make sure they each got some much-needed time off. The only other staff on duty were two assistants.

He got to the clinic first and unlocked it. In the massage room, he turned on the heat lamps and warmed the table. Unlike private spas, the Novak Clinic didn't have mood lighting and new-age music playing. Music made the patients zone out and Castiel preferred to get them talking. The primary objective was to keep the patients focused on healing while also encouraging them to be more vocal about how their bodies responded to treatment. It was an approach few clinics used, but the results spoke for themselves. 

Castiel was setting the supplies on the side table when Billie entered the room. "Morning, Dr. Novak. We only have two on the books today?"

"Yes. Winchester and Cooper. I'll be working with Winchester and Adam can work with Cooper in the whirlpool. She's a minor, so I'd like you to assist me." He handed over the file and she sat down to review it. Billie worked at Emory before Castiel hired her. She was great with the patients and a licensed masseuse. Her strong hands and calm demeanor put both the patients and staff at ease whenever she was in the room. 

While he waited, Castiel stopped by the breakroom to get a cup of coffee. Meg splurged on a Keurig a few months back and Cas had fallen in love with the quality and speed of the brewer. He dressed it up with some flavored creamer and an unhealthy amount of sugar. The euphoria he experienced after his first delicious sip had him thinking about getting one for his house. He was halfway through his cup before he glanced up at the wall clock.  _Shit_. He always forgot Ruby didn't work on weekends. He set his mug in the sink and jogged down the hall. When he pushed the door open, Mackenzie was there with...  _her father?_  Seeing Winchester standing there threw Castiel off momentarily. It must have showed because the other man reacted.

"What? I got something in my teeth?" _No..._ _you're fucking gorgeous._  Castiel shut that line of thinking down as fast as humanly possible.

"No... sorry. I just didn't expect you to be here. Didn't you play last night?" _Fuck_. Now, the man knows Castiel is keeping up with his schedule.

"Yeah. I flew out right after the game and got a little shut-eye this morning. I plan on being here for all Mac's appointments." He spoke with so much conviction, Castiel almost believed him...  _a_ _lmost_. He turned to Mackenzie and explained his immediate goals for her treatment. When he told Winchester that he wasn't allowed to accompany them, he looked pissed. He seemed ready to argue, but his daughter's words stopped him.

"Jesus, Daddy, relax. I'll be fine." Castiel got a sense of satisfaction out of it and pushed her through the doors, leaving Winchester looking very out of sorts.

"Are you experiencing any pain, Mackenzie?" He kept his tone light as he wheeled her down the hall.

"Umm... not pain exactly. Mostly I'm just stiff from not being able to do anything." She paused and started fidgeting with the hair ties on her wrist. "I used to swim several miles a day. Now... I can't even go to the bathroom by myself." 

Billie was waiting for them and held the door open for Castiel to push her through. "Good morning, Mackenzie. My name is Billie and I'll be assisting the doctor today."

"Nice to meet you. You can call me Mac," she replied. As instructed, the girl had worn shorts and a tank top under her tracksuit. Castiel and Billie lifted her to the table and he let his assistant help her out of the pants and hoodie. During the treatment, Billie and Mackenzie talked. Castiel stood back and listened while his colleague worked. He would occasionally instruct her, but Billie knew her job very well.

"So you swim, huh? Did Dr. Novak tell you he used to do triathlons? He swims every morning."

"No..." The young girl looked at him. "You competed?"

"Yes. Never came close to the Olympic level though." Castiel downplayed his athleticism. He didn't like talking about himself with patients. He knew from personal experience how important it was to keep a wall around his emotions when it came to his work.

"How long is the swim?" She asked curiously.

"Just 3.9 kilometers."

"Wow... that's what they swim in the Iron Man challenges," she exclaimed. He smiled and shrugged. "Is that what you did? Iron Man?" When he nodded, she grinned. "That's  _awesome_. You know, my dad did the Tough Mudder once. He loved everything about it except for the mud in his underwear." Castiel let out a snort of laughter at the thought of Winchester's face if he ever found out what his daughter was sharing with him. He felt himself relax as more questions poured out of the energetic girl. Eventually, Billie stepped back and Castiel took over to show Mac some simple stretching exercises to do at home.

"Don't do these unless someone is around to spot you. Do you have a..." Castiel stopped. He didn't want to insult the pre-teen and say babysitter, but he needed to know if she had proper supervision when her father was away with his team. "A caregiver?"

"You mean like a  _babysitter_?" Her expression, so much like her father's, showed her displeasure. "I'm not a baby. Besides, I have Dad, Charlie, Uncle Sam... lots of people. Not here in Dallas, though. Here I only have Dad and Charlie. She's the best."

"Is she your father's girlfriend?" Castiel mentally kicked himself, wanting to take back the question as soon as he said it. It really wasn't any of his business.

Mackenzie laughed, a soft musical sound that made Castiel smile despite embarrassing himself. "No, dude... Charlie's his PA and his BFF. He says he couldn't function without her. Daddy doesn't have a girlfriend... or a boyfriend." Ah, so she knew about her father's bisexuality. He wondered if she ever got grief for it from her classmates. Kids were so cruel sometimes. Although he would bet money that as long as Winchester was winning in baseball, he could do whatever he damn well pleased and no one would give a rat's ass. 

He thought back to the way Bartholomew so easily abandoned their relationship and he knew it had tainted his opinion of professional athletes. When Bart left him behind, it hurt Castiel so deeply that he hadn't had a real relationship since. It was irrational to think they were all the same, but he couldn't help it. The majority of them were spoiled, entitled, self-involved... He took a cleansing breath and willed his mind back to his patient.

"I'm going to leave Billie to help you get into your swimsuit and I'll meet you by the whirlpool." He stepped into the hall and made his way to the hydrotherapy area. Adam was there. "Where is Mr. Cooper?"

"He left a message that he couldn't make it today... something about his dog. I didn't quite get it," Adam said, looking apologetic. 

"Well in that case, you can leave early and enjoy the rest of your weekend."

"Thanks, Dr. Novak," he said, grinning. "See you on Monday."

Castiel was checking the controls on the whirlpool when Billie wheeled Mackenzie into the aquatic center. She looked around eagerly. "This is cool." Her eyes were on the Olympic sized pool.

Once she was lowered into the whirlpool by a sling, Billie excused herself to go clean up the massage therapy room. Mackenzie was full of questions about hydrotherapy and Castiel answered them all as he guided her through simple movements. Then things turned personal. "Do you have a pool at your house or do you swim here?"  

"I swim here. It's more convenient. Do you have a pool at your house?"

"I do at Dad's back in Austin. Mom and I didn't have one... " She grew quiet for a while and Castiel was content to sit with her. "Are you married?"

The question broke the silence and Castiel stared at her for a few seconds. "Uh...no. No, I'm not married."

"His Prince Charming hasn't ridden up on a white horse yet." Castiel rolled his eyes and groaned. "You're a little young to be proposing to my baby brother, though."

Mackenzie giggled up at Gabriel, who was dressed as a knight. This was his busy season with Halloween being right around the corner. "Gabriel, how did you get in here?"

"Please... like it's hard to break into this joint," Gabriel said with a cocky grin. Turning back to Mackenzie, he said in a stage whisper, "Sorry, kid. He's big on the book smarts, not so much with the street smarts... despite my  _worst_ efforts." He winked conspiratorially and Mac laughed. 

"I meant, in  _here_... the hydrotherapy room," Castiel said through clenched teeth. The door had a punch code to keep patients and family members from wandering in and having an accident.

"Oh...that. Sorry, bro... I cannot reveal my sources." 

Castiel pinned him with his most intimidating glare, then narrowed his eyes. "Meg gave it to you." He was pleased to see the smugness wiped off his brother's face. He was going to kill his partner... _after_ he killed his brother. 

"You're no fun... you know that, right?" Gabriel's disappointment was short-lived. "Now, back to the question at hand. Are you or are you not proposing to my brother, miss...?"

"Mackenzie... but my dad calls me Mac. And I'm only twelve, good sir," she answered, dimples appearing on her cheeks from her smile. She seemed more than capable of matching Gabriel shot-for-shot. Then her eyes went from twinkling to scrutinizing in a matter of seconds. It was kind of fascinating to watch the wheels turning in her little head. She peered at Castiel and then back at Gabriel. " _Prince_ Charming? Is he gay?"

"I'm right here," Castiel said for all the good it did. 

"As a unicorn shitting rainbows," Gabriel said with a mischievous look.

"Gabriel! Watch your language," Castiel admonished with a withering glare. 

Mackenzie gave him an incredulous look. "Seriously? I've heard way worse. I mean, have you ever hung out with a baseball team? Besides, my dad says I'll be allowed to swear when I pay taxes. Why do you think I'm working so hard for those big-money endorsements once I get famous?" She wagged her eyebrows and Gabriel burst into knee-slapping laughter. 

"Oh, I like you, Big Mac. We're gonna get along just fine," Gabriel said as he pulled awkwardly on the back of his costume pants. Mackenzie's melodic laugh echoed in the space. Castiel couldn't very well yell at his brother in front of a patient, but Gabriel would definitely get an earful about this later.

"My dad's bi," she said randomly. "That means he likes girls  _and_ boys." She looked him up and down curiously. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Gabriel owns a party store nearby and today is a busy sales day for him. He should probably get going," Castiel said, cutting his eyes at Gabriel, who thankfully took the hint. 

"As much as I would love to finish our conversation, fair maiden, I must be off. My noble steed awaits." With an overexaggerated bow, Gabriel exited the room and galloped down the hall making horse noises, much to Mackenzie's delight. Despite Castiel's irritation, he couldn't deny that Gabriel was really good with kids. 

Castiel waited until his brother's sounds disappeared before attaching the sling to the lift again. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah..." Castiel waited patiently while Mackenzie gripped the straps. She nodded, indicating she was ready to be lifted out of the water. "Your brother's hilarious, by the way," she said with a breath of laughter. Castiel grumbled his disagreement, which only made her happier. He had a sinking feeling his brother might have gained a new partner in crime. Not many people responded so well to his brother's antics. Some took offense to his often-dark brand of humor, but most just ended up getting the hell out of the way while Gabriel's chaos ran its course. His newest patient seemed to have enjoyed Gabriel's antics a little  _too_ much. 

"Please don't tell him that," he said dryly and that made her laugh, too. Strangely enough, her cheerful manner brightened his day. They didn't have children at the clinic very often. It was nice to be reminded of how resilient kids could be. Mackenzie had lost so much in such a short time, but here she was laughing and smiling through it all and staying positive in spite of her difficult situation. Perhaps she reminded him of Claire more than he wanted to admit. But when she smiled, her bright green eyes reminded Castiel of someone he didn't dare to think about. 


	4. Chapter 4

If Dean would have known he'd be spending Mac's appointment in the lobby with his thumb up his ass, he would've at least brought a book to read. He made his way through the few magazines scattered around and started skimming through his phone for a game to play. The front door opened and some dude dressed like a knight strolled in like it was completely normal to be dressed like a rejected extra from Game of Thrones. He didn't notice Dean and seemed to know his way around. Without hesitation, the guy pushed open the door to the treatment rooms and disappeared behind it. It was completely bizarre and Dean stared open-mouthed, thoroughly perplexed until he remembered that Halloween was only ten days away.

He went back to the game he pulled up on his phone, then abandoned it and started pacing, his repressed anxiety bubbling to the surface. Whenever he didn't have something to focus his active mind on, it tended to drift to topics he'd rather not think about... like Mac's question about his love life. When Mac was with Anna, Dean went on strategically chosen dates for publicity purposes. He also fucked around whenever he got the chance. As a rule, he only did one-night stands, since finding someone to like  _him_ rather than his bank account and fame was damn near impossible. Now that Mac was going to be living with him full-time, Dean knew the way he lived his life had to change.  

Dean stood in front of the windows looking out at the koi pond. When had his life become such a cluster-fuck? He wasn't blaming the accident... it started before that. Winning the pennant, the decision to retire, the worrisome thoughts about life after baseball... then all the pressure of playing in the World Series. The accident that injured his little girl was just the cherry on top of the shit sundae. If all of that wasn't stressful enough, they had to relocate to Dallas, he still needed to find a home school program for Mac, and somewhere in there they were grieving the loss of Anna. Thankfully, Sam had volunteered to take care of Mac's educational needs, so that was one less thing for Dean to worry about. 

For the first time in a long time, Dean let himself wish that he had someone to share his life with... a true partner who would care about him and be there to help shoulder the heavy load. Sure, he had Charlie and Sam to help out, but it wasn't enough. He remembered what life was like before the divorce... lying in bed after good sex... talking about silly things or sharing hopes and dreams... hanging out on the beach in Hawaii, indulging in fruity alcoholic drinks. All the little things about having a relationship weren't small to Dean at all. He loved those moments because they were the hallmarks of the type of intimacy he craved. He hung his head and released a tired sigh just as he heard a door open behind him. He turned around expecting Mac, but it was the dude in the costume again. This time, he made eye contact with Dean. "You're Dean Winchester."

"Guilty as charged," Dean answered. He was used to getting recognized by sports fans... although this was the first time he'd been approached by a freak in a knight costume.

"Huh... cool." Then the guy just sauntered out... weird. 

Another twenty minutes passed before Dean heard, "Daddy, we're done." He turned to find Mac being maneuvered through the doors by an attractive African American woman. He was surprised to find he was disappointed that Novak wasn't with her. "See you Monday, Billie." Mac waved and  _Billie_  was gone. He went over to Mac to keep her from having to wheel herself, but she brushed him off and said she could do it herself. Where did she get that stubborn streak of hers? Oh, yeah... from him.

"How'd it go?" Her hair was still damp and had obviously been towel dried. She was dressed in her track suit and her tote bag was on her lap. 

"Fine. Billie gave me a massage while Dr. Novak observed and then he showed me some stretches. The aquatic center here is f-ing amazing."

"Yeah, I know. And don't say f-ing. Substitutions still count as swearing. Nice try, though." Dean smirked at her scowl as he opened the door for her to wheel outside. The weather was a bit on the cool side, making the parent in him worry about her hair. The last thing she needed was to catch a cold on top of everything else.

"You say it," she countered.

"I say a lot of things."

"It's not technically a swear word." She rolled her eyes and Dean snorted a laugh. He thought he had a few more years before she thought he was lame. 

"You're using it in place of a bad word, so everyone knows what you mean." Another eyeroll. "Don't worry... one day you'll be a lame grown-up that pays taxes just like me. Then you can swear all you want." 

"Ugh...  _I know_ , Dad." He smiled to himself as he helped her into the car. He was probably a bad parent for not correcting her attitude, but he was too damn happy to see her behaving like a normal kid again. Through all the shit that happened, Mac had been subdued and not like herself at all. Dean could let her sassy behavior slide as long as it meant he got his girl back. Besides, a little attitude never hurt anyone. It served him well enough in his career.  

They pulled out of the parking lot and had driven less than half a mile before she spoke. "Did you know that Dr. Novak's gay?" Dean's mind ceased to function for a split second and the big car swerved onto the shoulder before he could correct it. _Novak was gay?_  "Whoa, Dad..."

"Sorry, there was a pothole. Gotta protect Baby's chassis." He couldn't meet her eyes in the mirror after that blatant lie. "You okay, Mac?"

"I'm peachy. This stupid padding is giving me both a front  _and_ back wedgie." She was frowning and Dean couldn't help laughing. "Thanks, Dad... make fun of the gimp and her malfunctioning underwear." Dean glanced in the mirror to see her grinning at him.

"Jesus, Mac... you're pretty f-ing funny." He used the substitute swear word on purpose. Her jaw dropped with the  _this is so unfair_  expression, which only made him laugh harder. Meeting her eyes in the mirror, he saw an abrupt change come over her mood. "What's up, Princess?"

"Nothing... I was just thinking about my friends. Will I ever be able to go back to school?"

"Sure you will, sweetie. You need to give your body time to heal first, though. That's gonna take some time, so we'll have to be patient." Her face fell and her lip started to quiver. "You know... I could have Charlie set you up with a Skype account so you can chat with your friends. Would you like that?" Her online school sessions were already set up on her laptop, so adding something like Skype to improve her overall well-being was no hardship at all. Dean didn't believe in spoiling his kid, but he wanted her to be happy.

Her smile was radiant. "Yes," she answered. "That's a great idea. I mean, it's not the same as hanging out in person, but it's better than nothing. Thanks, Daddy." 

Now that Mac's good mood was restored, Dean reached out and turned on the radio.  _Sweet Child of Mine_  was playing. 

"Sweet! Turn it up, Dad," she yelled as she smacked the back of his seat repeatedly. Dean cranked up the volume and they spent the rest of the car ride singing along at the top of their lungs. It was awesome and by the time they got home, his heart felt lighter.

They pulled into the driveway and Charlie met them at the door. "Your Uber's on the way. Here are your tickets and your bag. Bobby called and said to go straight to Demon Field to get some practice in before tomorrow's game." 

Dean took the envelope and his carry-on, kissed Mac on her forehead, and waved to both of them as a strange car pulled into the driveway. It wasn't until he was seated on the plane holding tightly to the armrest that Dean started to think about the fact that Novak was gay. And, more importantly, how the hell it came up in a conversation with his daughter. Mac was like a dog with a bone when she wanted to know something, but would she come right out and ask a personal question like that? Yeah, she absolutely would.  _Shit_... did she tell the doc he was bi? It was public knowledge, but still...

Leaning his head against the window, Dean's mind began to wander as this new information sank in.  _So, the good doctor was gay_... Dean smirked. He would tap that in a heartbeat... after Mac's treatments were done, of course. The way the man looked in those swim trunks should have been illegal. Outwardly, Novak seemed aloof and cool... the type that was usually hot as fuck in bed. The motherfucker was probably hung, too... with a cock thick enough to make Dean feel it for days... 

"Sir, would you like something to drink?" The flight attendant was standing in the aisle and Dean looked around nervously. How long had she been standing there? He quickly dropped the tray table to cover his erection. 

"Sorry... just daydreaming. I'll have a Coke, please."

"Peanuts, pretzels, or cookies?"

"Uh...nuts...peanuts... yeah, peanuts." He sounded like a fucking moron. She passed him his drink and a tiny bag, then made her way to the seats behind first class. Dean concentrated on quelling his dirty thoughts about his kid's doctor. Thankfully, the businessman in the next seat kept to himself and looked like he would take it as a personal insult if anyone had the nerve to speak to him.  

The flight from Dallas to Austin was short and once he got to baggage claim, Dean looked around and saw a younger man approaching him. "Mr. Winchester, my name is Will and I'll be your driver. Do you need to collect any bags?"

"Nope," Dean said, lifting his carry-on. "I'm good to go." Dean followed him through the crowd and noticed a few people pointing at him. He smiled and waved, but his schedule was tight and he needed to spend more time on the field with his team. Tomorrow was Game Three and he had a lot to make up for.

They got into Will's white Sebring convertible and pulled out into traffic. "You a fan, Will?"

The poor guy blushed and nodded. "Yes, sir. But I have to admit, the Marlins are my favorite."

"You're from Florida?" Dean asked, genuinely interested. He liked it when people were honest. He hated it when people acted like he'd be offended if they didn’t worship him. Dean had never been that kind of celebrity and never would be.

"Yes, sir."

Dean laughed. "Dude, stop calling me sir. The name's Dean."

"Yes, sir... Dean." The two chatted during the twenty-minute ride to Demon Field. Will was finishing up his degree in environmental science and had gotten into a work-study program at the Austin Zoo for a few months. He made extra money as an Uber driver in his spare time. Dean spent so much time talking about himself to reporters and fans, it was refreshing to hear about someone else's life for a change. The young man was intelligent and seemed to be passionate about his work. Dean guessed he would go pretty far in life with that kind of attitude.

Will dropped him off at the players' entrance and Dean slipped him a fifty-dollar bill. "Thanks, man."

"Good luck tomorrow, Dean." Dean waved and hustled through the doors. He stopped by the locker room to change into his practice gear. 

The field lights were beginning to come on as the sun sank below the horizon. He joined the team and took a few minutes to answer their questions about Mac. He felt lucky to have a team that was like family to him. Rufus and Bobby broke up the conversation and everyone scattered. Dean and Benny grabbed a few others to work at the batting cage. Dean was at home here and for the next hour and a half, he forgot about the accident, Mac's recovery, and the blue-eyed doctor.

Tired and sweaty, Dean showered with the guys and changed into a pair of jeans and a Demons sweatshirt from his locker. He and Benny lit out in Benny's Mustang and grabbed a quick bite to eat at a nearby diner. Sensing Dean's precarious mood, Benny kept the topic of conversation on the upcoming game. The two men went through the Angels lineup, discussing weaknesses and strengths. As Benny drove Dean home, the conversation turned more personal.

"You okay, brother?" Benny's eyes showed the concern he had for his teammate and friend. Dean sighed and leaned his head back against the seat.

"Yeah... I'm okay. Just got a lot on my plate." Dean paused, hoping Benny would take over, but he simply waited patiently for Dean to keep talking. "Look, I'm sorry I let you guys down the other night..."

"What the hell are you talkin' about? You didn't let anyone down. Why do you think that?" 

Dean let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, I don't know... maybe because it's my job to lead the team and I was so stuck in my own head, I fucked the whole game up and we lost."

"And you think that's all on you?" Dean didn't answer. "Listen here, Dean... the world doesn't rest on your shoulders. I know it feels that way sometimes, but not everything is your fault. Me and the rest of the guys are just as responsible for losing as you are. You're a good ballplayer and a good leader. Don't be so hard on yourself. Shit, if any of us experienced half of what you've gone through the last few weeks, we'd be too messed up to even play. Everyone, including me, think you're strong as fuck."

They rode in silence until the car came to a stop in Dean's driveway. With his hand on the door and his eyes averted, Dean mumbled, "Thanks, Benny."

After an obligatory fist bump with his other hand, Dean grabbed his bag, exited the car, and made his way up the walk to his front door. He tried to remember the last time he spent any time in his home... was it before the accident?  _God_... Since Mac was hurt, he'd spent most nights at the hospital and more recently, in hotels or the new place in Dallas. It would be nice to sleep in his own bed for a change.

Dean went straight to his room and dropped his bag next to his bed, then brushed his teeth and stripped down. As usual when Mac wasn't around, he didn't bother with wearing pajamas. His head hit the soft pillow with a thump, his body practically singing with the relief that only comes with the comfort of being home. The darkness in his room was only broken by the light from his phone as he texted a goodnight message to Mac. He set his phone on the nightstand and rolled over to lay on his back. 

He tried to calm his turbulent thoughts enough to sleep, but it wasn't happening. There were too many thoughts in his head... chief among them being the unbelievably sexy Dr. Novak. Eyes closed, Dean recalled the image of Novak looking up at him from the pool, then the way his back muscles rippled as he moved through the water. He let his hand drift down his stomach to grip his cock as it lengthened.  _Fuck_... just thinking about the guy made him hard. He briefly thought it was wrong to think of Mac's doctor that way, but his dick didn't get the message. It had been so long since his last orgasm... long before the accident.

Stroking himself lazily, Dean took the reins off his wayward thoughts. He tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss those full, pink lips, but something told him that his fantasy wouldn't come close to the real thing. He'd bet his left nut that Novak was an amazing kisser.  _Those lips_... 

Dean's fist tightened and he sped up his strokes. He thought about Novak's mouth wrapped around his cock. Would he be hesitant and shy, or would he be free of inhibitions and eager to please? Maybe he would use his tongue and swirl it around the head... Dean reached up his other hand and clenched a fistful of his own hair, pretending it was thick, dark hair on a different head. His breaths were coming faster and he was thrusting up his hips as he fucked into his fist. 

The last thing he remembered was the mental picture of long, black eyelashes framing sapphire-blue eyes locking onto his own as the man swallowed around Dean's shaft. Then Dean was coming  _hard_ , long, hot streaks shooting onto his stomach and chest. 

After cleaning himself up, he slid under the covers and rolled onto his stomach. A soft chuckle escaped when he realized he just got off to visions of his kid's doctor. It was probably fucked up, but for some reason, he wasn't bothered by it. Just before he surrendered to sleep, he thought about what it would be like to fold one of those strong, healing hands into one of his own. 

Castiel had to let Billie take Mac out to her father. He didn't want to see the man, not when his thoughts were scattered between lustful images and the need to keep him in the 'asshole' category he put most professional athletes in. To keep himself from looking out his office window at the sleek black car, Castiel sat down at his desk and began speaking into the small recorder he used for case notes.  _"Patient Mackenzie Winchester, 12-year-old female, post-MVC contusions around L4-L5 vertebrae, bilateral misalignment of facet joints resulting in compression of sciatic nerve roots, post-op MRI showed..."_

When he was finished, he took the recording down the hall to the office manager's desk, knowing she would ensure it got to the transcriptionist. Being the only one left in the building, Castiel felt a sense of peace wash over him. He made sure everything was locked and let himself into the hydrotherapy room. He dropped his pants and pulled his shirt over his head. Completely nude, he dove into the warm water of the pool. He began to swim, long, cutting strokes... touch, flip, swim, repeat. He lost count of the laps and his muscles began to ache. A cramp in his calf finally brought him to a stop. He stood and pushed the wet strands of hair away from his face. 

"Are you  _naked_?" Castiel closed his eyes and huffed.

"Gabriel. I believe I need to change all the locks and codes... maybe even get a guard dog." He braced his hands on the side of the pool and lifted himself out of the water.

"I'm glad to see our good genetics blessed us both with giganticocks." Castiel fought the urge to cover himself and strolled over to his towel. He wrapped it around his waist without bothering to dry himself, then turned to face his brother. He wasn't wearing the knight costume anymore and was in his usual attire of jeans and a button-down.

"Why are you here...  _again_?" Castiel's anger softened when he saw Gabriel's expression turn serious.

"Meg is worried about you. She thinks that kid is bringing up bad memories." Castiel lifted a corner of his mouth in a parody of a smile.

"Meg should mind her own business," he growled, but the fight had gone out of him. If it weren't for Meg and Gabriel, he wouldn't have made it through that horrific time after Claire's death. With a sigh, he lowered himself to one of the benches and Gabriel sat next to him.

"We worry because we love you, asshat."

"I know," Castiel murmured. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Castiel spoke. "She does remind me of Claire. She's outgoing and funny... and she has such big dreams. She's a great kid, Gabriel, but I can't let myself get attached. It's not professional."

"Professional-shmefessional... who gives a shit? If she's fun and you like being her doc, nothing else matters. Will you be able to help her?"

"I think so. The damage could have been a lot worse. She has the drive to succeed and she's already in excellent shape. And... as much as I hate to admit it, she has a good support system in her father."

"Ahh yes... I saw him in the lobby today. Dean Winchester... criminally handsome, baseball player extraordinaire." Gabriel paused to train a shrewd eye on his little brother. Castiel had no doubt that Gabriel had discerned the source of his issues with the athlete. "You can't keep letting that asshole dictate your love life, bro."

"Who said anything about my love life? I have no romantic interest in Dean Winchester," he said vehemently. And he didn't. Lust didn't equal romance. Lust he could control. 

"I'm just saying Bart was a big bag of dicks and he didn't deserve you." Castiel opened his mouth to defend his ex out of habit, but pulled himself up short. He didn't have to make excuses anymore... that ship sailed a long time ago. "It's time to start putting yourself out there again. If we all crawled inside a box every time we got hurt, the world would be a lonely place. You've got a lot to give some lucky man out there." Castiel scoffed at that.

"Right. I'm an anti-social workaholic with trust issues. Who wouldn't want that?"

"Shut up, you're amazing. Besides, I'm the only one who gets to talk shit about you. Now, get your amazing ass dressed and let me take you out for dinner."  

"Gabriel, I don't—"

"What was that? Sorry, I can't hear you. Must be the water in your ears. See you out front." Gabriel strutted out of the room before Castiel could say another word. With a growl of irritation, Castiel made his way to his office to get changed. 

Over dinner, Gabriel kept a running commentary about his very successful costume shop. When he first opened it, Castiel thought it was a ludicrous idea. No one needed stuff like that unless it was Halloween. How could anyone possibly make a living that way? He was surprised to discover that Gabriel found a way to do that and more. His customer base was filled with cosplay fans, furries, and even the film industry. While Halloween was his busy season, the store stayed steady all year.

The next morning, Castiel finished his swim at the center and returned home since Sundays were his downtime. He usually spent his day off watching old movies, playing his beloved piano, and doing household chores. Dressed in comfortable sweats from his college days, he sat down at his laptop. His growing fascination with baseball... mainly one particular pitcher... kept him glued to his screen. There were pictures of Dean practicing underneath the lights of Demon Stadium dated yesterday. Then like a perv, he typed in  _Dean Winchester shirtless_. His eyes widened. For some reason, he expected the man to be the type to spend hours in the gym, but his imperfect perfection was Castiel's undoing. 

There were pictures of him at a park playing soccer with friends and a few candid shots of him on a beach in Hawaii. In those, he was with a pretty redhead. She looked stilted as she smiled for the camera, but he was drawn to Dean's eyes. There was sadness there that spoke volumes. Was this Mackenzie's mother? He clicked on the accompanying article. Yes... Anna Milton Winchester. Was she the cause of Dean's sadness? Something told him she was and an unbidden rush of anger and protectiveness surged through him. Before he was tempted to examine  _that_  too closely, he closed out of the article and slammed his laptop shut. All of a sudden, he had an urgent need to get out of the house. 

With nothing else on his to-do list, he decided to go grocery shopping and slid behind the wheel of his Jeep Rubicon. He loved the vehicle, despite Meg's comments about it being for 'thrill-seeking dude-bros'… whatever that meant. It had awful gas mileage, but it was rugged enough to fit his needs. He had a carrier on the back for his bike and it had plenty of room for his gear when he went biking off-road.

The grocery store lot was fairly empty and he parked near a hideous yellow Gremlin. He was in the dairy aisle looking at the selection of sliced cheeses when a familiar voice called out to him. "Dr. Novak? Hey, Charlie, it's my doctor." 

Holding onto a package of sharp Cheddar, he waited for Mackenzie and a petite redhead to join him. Did Dean have a thing for redheads? He married one, hired another... maybe the man had an Irish Setter so he could also have a redheaded dog. He smiled at the thought and greeted his patient. "Mackenzie, how are you today? Have you done your stretching exercises?" It was a bit unusual to see patients outside of the clinic and he didn't know what to say.

Yesssss," she replied, letting the word draw out and rolling her eyes. He could tell she wasn't pleased. "I miss swimming. Oh, sorry... this is Charlie. She's my friend and my dad's... right, I told you about her already." 

"Nice to meet you, doc," Charlie said as she stuck out her small hand. Castiel's engulfed hers and he shook it gently.

"Likewise," Castiel replied politely.

To Charlie, Mac snickered, "He wanted to know if you were dad's  _girlfriend_." Both of them shared a look of mock horror that had Castiel laughing.

"Dean is hot, don't get me wrong..." Charlie was interrupted by Mac making a gagging sound, but she ignored it. "Unfortunately for  _him_ , he's not my type." Castiel's momentary confusion must have shown because she further clarified, "He doesn't bat for my team. Besides, I've seen him scratching his nuts in front of the TV...  _so_ unattractive." 

Castiel found himself laughing again. When his eyes met Mackenzie's, he sobered. Her expression was... calculating. What on earth could she be thinking about? He'd seen that look plenty of times on Gabriel's face and it never led to anything good for Castiel. Time to go. "It was nice to see you again, Mackenzie. And Charlie, glad to finally meet you..." He held up the cheese and pointed to his overflowing cart. "But I need to get all of this home before it spoils." 

He didn't add that he wanted to have time to fix himself dinner before Game Three.

Mac did her stretching exercises while Charlie watched. They spent the time talking about the upcoming Thor movie and the gift to humanity that was Chris Hemsworth's arms. The time went by too quickly and she was bored out of her mind. She missed swimming, hanging out with her friends, and most of all, she missed her coach. Coach Ellen Harvelle was a hard-ass, but she guarded her people fiercely and cared deeply. She was one of Mac's favorite people in the all the world and it felt wrong to not see her every day. Maybe she would ask her dad if Coach could come for a visit...

"We need to do some shopping for the house, kiddo," Charlie announced after helping her back into the wheelchair.

"You can go. I'll be fine," Mac said, longing for some time alone. She loved her dad and Charlie, but she wasn't used to being smothered by everyone. She was really glad she was here with Charlie instead of being stuck with her grandparents, the Miltons. In the hospital, they had been really clingy. They were nice enough, but a little more religious than Mac was comfortable with. They were always trying to take her to church, but Mac always had an excuse ready so she could avoid that at all costs. She wondered what it was like for her mom to grow up that way. Thinking of her mom made her heart sink. 

She wanted her mom. It always made Mac feel better to talk about girl stuff with her. Dad was great and she loved him so much, but it still felt like part of her was missing. She was so angry when the doctors wouldn't let her go to the funeral. She thought it sucked when her dad didn't want to go, but Charlie explained that he wouldn't leave Mac alone during that time. It helped to know that her dad was being so attentive, it really did... but she still longed to bury her face in her mother's neck and smell her perfume just one more time. Yesterday, she thought of something funny and picked up her phone to call her mom to tell her about it... then she noticed the contact was missing from the new phone. It would have seemed poetic if it wasn't breaking her heart.  

"Hey... you okay, munchkin?"

"Yeah, just thinking about my mom." She knew Charlie had lost both of her parents and Mac was counting on her to understand that she really didn't want to talk about it. 

Charlie didn't disappoint. "Look, none of the things people say will make you feel any better. Just know if you ever need to talk or bitch or scream... I'll be here." Charlie patted her once on the shoulder and grabbed her bag. "And with that little nugget of wisdom out of the way... you are  _not_ staying here by yourself. It will do you good to get out and go somewhere other than a hospital, the clinic, or this house. Besides, you need to help me pick out the foods you like. If left to my own devices, I can't be held responsible when I come home with nothing but Twinkies and Pork Skins. So, come help with the shopping, then if you're finished with your school work, I'll leave you alone to talk to your friends online."

At the grocery store, Mac maneuvered the wheelchair up and down the aisles as Charlie pushed their cart. They approached the dairy section and Mac glanced up to see Dr. Novak looking at the cheese. She moved her arms faster and yelled, "Dr. Novak?" She called out over her shoulder, "Hey, Charlie, it's my doctor." 

The conversation was short, but he laughed...  _twice_. And he was gay. Gay, cute, and not married. After he walked away, Mac sat there next to gallons and gallons of milk while staring after the man. "What are you thinking, my young Padawan?"

"He's gay."

"How do you know that?" Charlie asked, putting a quart of milk into the cart.

"He told me... well, his brother told me."

"And why did his sexual orientation make you look all...  _constipated_." 

"Ew, you're gross. I did not look  _constipated_. I poop just fine, thanks." She moved her chair out of the way so Charlie could get to the butter and continued. "I was just thinking that he's gay and dad's bi..."

"Stop right there, girlfriend. Just because you see someone on the street with the same sexual orientation as you, that doesn't mean you want to marry them and have babies. Attraction is more important than...  _proximity_. You need to stay out of it and let your dad decide who he wants to be with. As for your doctor... he's a fine specimen, but your dad might not be attracted to him. Even if he was, he wouldn't act on it."

"Why not?" Mac gaped at her friend. Why wouldn't her dad want to go out with Dr. Novak if he was attracted to him? It made no sense.

"Because he's your doctor. It crosses a line."

"What line?"

"Um... you know,  _the line_." Mac stared blankly, waiting for further explanation. Charlie ran a hand through her hair and huffed. "Jeez, I don't know... you're just not supposed to shit where you eat." Mac grinned. She still didn't understand why her dad and Dr. Novak couldn't go out on a date, but Charlie always said the funniest things. "As long as Dr. Novak is your doctor, it would be wrong for your dad and him to date."

"Wrong... like, illegal?"

"No. In my opinion, it isn't even unethical. It's not like he's your dad's doctor... but I'm looking at the situation through your dad's eyes." Mac blinked at her, trying to wrap her head around what Charlie was saying, when Charlie laughed. "Oh, who am I kidding? Your dad would be all over that ass. Shit... I mean... your dad would love to date someone like Dr. Novak if there was a sign that Dr. Novak was interested."

" _Really_?" The wheels in Mac's head began to turn at an increasing speed. Her dad usually dated people like Miss Texas and women who looked like they couldn't tell a baseball from a softball. He never brought them around her, but Google had plenty of information on her dad's dating habits. Mac wasn't sure what type of guy her dad liked, but she had eyes. Dr. Novak was athletic and really handsome for an old guy. Plus, he treated her with respect and like she was...  _normal_. 

"Hey," Charlie said with a flick to Mac's forehead. "What's going on in that mind of yours?"

"Nothing. Let's get some ice cream. Dad likes Moose Tracks." Mac needed time to think.

Dean had several interviews to get through and another short practice before Game Three, which was scheduled to start at four o'clock. He sent a few texts to both Charlie and Mac, but most of the day was hectic and he was actually looking forward to the game. His conversation with Benny helped pull him out of his guilt-filled funk and shifted Dean's focus away from losing the last game to winning the next.

Bobby entered the locker room and called for their attention. The team quieted, all eyes trained on their coach. "I ain't good with uplifting, rosy-colored speeches, so I'm gonna keep this short. Go out there and kick it in the ass tonight, boys." There was laughter and a few cheers for Bobby before they were left to finish getting into their uniforms. Since they were the home team, they were wearing their dark jerseys. Their fans erupted as they took the field. 

By the bottom of the sixth, the Demons were up by two runs. Dean called out encouragement to each batter as they stepped up to home plate. When he went up to bat, he knew the cameras were on him and he winked. He knew Mac would see it and know it was for her. The first pitch was low and to the outside. The umpire yelled, "Ball One."

Dean choked up on the bat and got back into his stance. He eyed the pitcher and watched as he fired a fast ball straight at him. He jumped back to avoid being hit, but grunted when it struck his upper thigh. The crowd booed and Dean's irate teammates stood up and crowded the rail. Bobby came out of the dugout. Dean winced, but did his best to shake it off. The ump told him to take his base and he jogged to first. He didn't think it was intentional and apparently, the ump didn't either since another Demon took the plate. He made it to second before Jesse, their left-fielder, got three strikes, giving the Demons their third out.

He limped into the dugout to retrieve his glove and Bobby stopped him from taking the mound. "You took a hard hit. You good?"

"I ain't gonna lie, it hurts like a motherfucker. But I'm okay. I'll ice it after the game." Bobby grunted, but let Dean go. As he passed the Angels pitcher, the guy grabbed his bicep. 

"Sorry, man."

"It's all good, Ramirez." Dean flashed him a smile and couldn't help saying, "We're still gonna kick your ass."

"In your dreams, Winchester," Ramirez said with a laugh.

With Dean's pitches and Jesse making up for his out by catching a fly, the Angels didn't score. Bobby pulled him from the batting lineup for the last inning and Dean took the bench. His thigh was throbbing. He knew it wasn't serious and just bruised, but Bobby didn't want to aggravate it by making him run. The Demons still ended up winning by two runs. 

The guys understood that he couldn't stay to celebrate. Mac had her first real PT appointment in the morning and he needed to be there. He took a quick shower, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and made it to his plane with thirty minutes to spare. By nine o'clock, he was folding his long legs into the backseat of Charlie's Gremlin. Mac was bursting with excitement over the win and the three of them talked non-stop all the way home. Mac was pissed about Ramirez hitting him, but Dean calmed her down. 

At the house, he sprawled on the sofa with an ice pack on his thigh while they watched Food Network... Charlie's choice, not his. When eleven o'clock rolled around, Dean stood up with a grunt. "Bedtime, Mac." He was rewarded with a scowl. "Don't look at me like that. We have your morning appointment at the clinic and then you have schoolwork."

"What time are you leaving for the game?" She asked him... anything to delay her bedtime. Dean looked over at Charlie for the answer.

Without looking up from her iPad, she responded, "Flight leaves at two. Game starts at six." 

He looked at Mac. "What she said. Now, bed." He grabbed the handles of her wheelchair and pushed her down the short hallway to her room. He took her to the bathroom to brush her teeth, then set out her pajamas and lifted her onto the bed. He turned his back so she could undress. "Did you get to talk to your friends today?"

"Yep." She filled him in on the latest middle school gossip and what was going on with the swim team. She wound down and said, "You can turn around now."

She was snuggled underneath the hot pink comforter and resting on a mountain of soft, multicolored pillows. He sat down next to her and gently brushed the hair out of her eyes. "I love you, Princess."

"I know, Daddy. I love you too." She picked at the hem of her sleeve. "Dad... do you think Dr. Novak is cute?"

"No." Her face fell and he cocked his head in confusion. What he said was true... cute was for puppies. Novak was fucking  _hot_... not that he would tell his daughter that.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason..." She was lying. He was about to call her on it, but she knew it was coming and blurted out, "Charlie said it wasn't illegal or unethical for you to want to be all over his ass." 

Dean gasped in shock.  _"What?"_  The question came out in a squeak. He cleared his throat. "Charlie said what?" This time it was in his usual baritone. 

"We saw Dr. Novak in the grocery store and then Charlie and I got to talking..." She let her words trail off and was once again fascinated with the sleeve of her pajamas. "But if you don't think he's cute..."

"Dr. Novak is a very... uh..."  _Fuck._ How the hell could he explain this to his daughter? "He's a  _handsome_  man, Mac. But him being gay doesn't automatically mean that he would like me." He frantically pushed his jerk-off session out of his head. Yep, he was definitely going to hell.

Her face brightened. "But if he  _did_ like you, would you go out with him?"

Dean opened his mouth and then closed it again. As a rule, he always answered Mac's questions honestly. It started years ago when he came out. She was younger then, but he explained it the best way he could. He had no idea how to tell a pre-teen about sexual attraction without making it weird. "It's really a moot point, Mac. He's your doctor and maybe it isn't technically unethical or illegal, but he probably wouldn't see it that way. Besides, I don't think I'm his type." He needed to get out of this conversation before he embarrassed himself. "You're good at stalling, sweetheart, but it's still bedtime." He kissed her forehead and made sure the covers were snug around her small body. "Goodnight, Mac."

"G'night, Daddy." After shutting off her light and leaving her door ajar, he shook his head. He had a sneaking suspicion that this was only the beginning of something he clearly didn't know anything about. It was time to go deal with Charlie.

The television was on Cupcake Wars.He liked the show, but only because there was nothing called Pie Wars. He left the volume where it was because he didn't want Mac to eavesdrop. "So..." He let the word hang in the air. Charlie looked up with a puzzled expression.

"What?"

"You told my child that I would tap her doctor's ass?" Her face went from confused to mortified in a split-second.

"No...  _no way_. Did she tell you that? I will whoop that ass... don't think I won't," Charlie's reaction was priceless and Dean fought the urge to laugh. But she knew him too well and pursed her lips. "You little shit."

"But you  _did_ tell her that it wasn't wrong for me to date him. I think she may have added something about his ass. Which honestly freaks me out, knowing that my kid is concerned about my sex life."

"Maybe she has a crush on him. Lots of people crush on their doctors. He is dreamy for a dude. Thick sex hair, nice smile... and with that deep voice, you can literally  _feel_ his laugh."

"Charlie, Mac doesn't... wait, he laughed?" Dean couldn't imagine it. He hadn't even seen a genuine smile from the guy, let alone a laugh. It only confirmed his assumption that Novak simply didn't like him. For some reason, the thought saddened him. 

Later that night, Dean tossed and turned in bed. His leg hurt and he couldn't get comfortable. He needed to sleep. Game Four was coming up fast and he wanted another win. He  _needed_  another win. He punched his pillow and longed for his own mattress. With his mind on overdrive, the memory of last night and the fantasy of Novak sucking his cock popped into his head. The blue-eyed fucker was starting to get on Dean's nerves. It's like he was suddenly  _everywhere_... and the most frustrating part was that he had no idea  _why_.

The next morning, Dean was dragging ass. Sleep had been sporadic at best. He made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of strong, black coffee. Normally, he didn't drink caffeine on a game day, but with the night he had, Dean needed something to help him function and start his day.  

Between him and Charlie, they got Mac out of bed, dressed, and loaded in the Impala. He prayed to anyone who might be listening that Mac wouldn't try to continue their conversation about Novak. Thankfully, she played on her phone for the short drive to the clinic.

Ruby was once again at her post and she gave Dean the stink-eye when he approached the desk. "Morning, Ruby. Mac's here for her appointment," he said with a grin. She scowled, but was all smiles when she addressed Mac.

"Someone will come get you in a few minutes, Mackenzie." Dean was following Mac's chair to the seating area, his limp more pronounced than last night, when someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned to find Novak frowning at him.  _What now?_

"Ruby, put Mr. Winchester in Exam Three." He turned to Mac without saying another word. "Makenzie, I'll be taking you to the gym and Billie can start you on your treatment."

"Hang on a sec..." Castiel tilted his head and Dean forgot what he was going to say. Unblinking blue eyes stared back at him waiting for him to continue. "I...uh... why Exam Three?"

"Because I just had a patient in Exam Four and it needs to be cleaned," Novak deadpanned and smiled at Mac. "Let's go." He took the handles of her chair and just like that, they were gone. Dean was left standing in the middle of the lobby.

"Smooth..." Ruby clapped sarcastically and Dean glared at her. She gave him a smirk and shrugged. "Follow me." She pushed through the door and he had no choice but to tag along. 

"Do you know why he wants me back here? Is it about Mac? Is there something wrong?"

"I would answer you, but I left my crystal ball at home." Dean gave an exasperated sigh and entered the room while she held the door open. "Just sit here like a good boy and don't touch anything."

"Whatever," he said to the closed door.  _Bitch_. He wanted to rummage through the cabinets just to piss her off, but with his luck lately, he'd get caught by the good doctor himself. He sat on the rolling stool and spun around... and around... and around. The door opened abruptly and Novak strode into the room. His brow furrowed as Dean used his uninjured leg to stop spinning.

"Could you get up on the table please?" Novak had a look in his eyes that Dean couldn't interpret. He mumbled an apology and complied. 

"Why? What's this all about, doc? Is everything okay with Mac?" Dean was starting to get nervous. 

"Mackenzie is fine. You, however, are not. I'd like to take a look at your leg, if you don't mind." Novak's face was schooled into a blank expression. Dean could see the effort the guy was making and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The doctor wavered. "I watched the game last night and saw the hit you took." 

"It's not a big deal. Besides, we have a whole team of doctors on staff." Dean neglected to mention that he didn't have time to get checked out last night. Something flashed briefly in Novak's eyes, but it was there and gone before Dean could figure it out. 

"I observed the way you were walking, Mr. Winchester." He locked eyes with Dean and then looked away. "I can help you," he said in a softer voice. He wasn't giving anything away. The guy should have worked for the fucking CIA. Dean envied his ability to mask his emotions so effectively. He'd never been able to do that... everything he thought and felt was always plain to see on his face. A fact he was all too aware of with Novak being so close. It didn’t help when he heard the man's next words. "Please remove your pants so I can take a look." 

 _Holy shit._   No fucking way he just said that... Dean's mouth went dry and his palms started to sweat. "Uh... what?"  _Real clever, dumbass._  Novak stood there, patiently waiting for Dean to do as he was told. Grumbling something about Novak buying him dinner first, Dean toed off his shoes, thankful he hadn't gone commando. He unfastened his jeans, and slid them off to reveal black boxer briefs and his battered thigh. He heard a sharp gasp and looked up to see an expression on the doc's face that was filled with concern. "It's not as bad as it looks. I've had worse." Dean glanced down at his leg. The mottled bruising was about the size of a softball now.

Dean was fascinated to watch Novak's face go from sincere concern to pissed off in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if he was angry over the idea of Dean being hurt. But that couldn't be right... could it?

"I will never understand you athletes. You act like beating the hell out of your bodies is some kind of badge of honor. It's not." The doctor moved closer and nudged for Dean to lay back and extend his leg. Warm, strong hands began to gently probe the tender flesh and the area around it. Dean used every ounce of self-control he had to keep himself from reacting. "You need to be more careful." It was so quiet, Dean almost missed it.

"It's not like I did it on purpose. I just didn't dodge fast enough. Should've paid more attention in gym class." It was a lame attempt at humor. He watched as Novak pulled a container from the cabinet and poured some of the contents into his hand. He rubbed them together, then without a word, started to spread the ointment on Dean's thigh in long, soothing motions. Dean winced when Novak's thumb grazed the edge of the bruise.

"Sorry. Try to focus on relaxing the muscle. If you're tense, it will only make it worse." Novak sounded so clinical, but Dean could see there was something else just below the surface. He had almost worked it out when the doc placed one hand above his knee, and the other at the top of Dean's thigh.  _Don't react... don't react..._ But he couldn't help the obscene groan that escaped his mouth when Novak began pulling in opposite directions, stretching the tight muscle slowly and deliberately. It felt  _so good_. Head back and eyes closed, Dean could have died from the pleasure he felt at the relief. Tension he hadn't even been aware of just melted away under the skilled touch of the sexiest fucking doctor Dean had ever met. 

" _Fuck_... that feels amazing, doc... you have no idea." Dean was shocked when he heard a soft chuckle. He opened his eyes and found Novak actually  _smiling_ at him. 

"I think I have some idea," he said with a slight quirk of an eyebrow.  _Did he just make a joke?_

"Well, look at that... you do smile." Dean's cocky grin faded when he saw the doctor's reaction. Novak's easy grin was gone and the blank mask had returned. Dean wasn't sure what he did wrong and resigned to keep his mouth shut. A few minutes later, Novak was at the sink washing his hands. 

"I would like you to spend at least twenty minutes in the whirlpool. It won't do much for the contusion, but it will help relax your muscles." He turned to stare at Dean impassively.

"I'm not exactly dressed for it, doc. And as much as the tabloids would love it, I ain't gettin' naked in front of everyone." Dean crossed his arms and tried to look as menacing as he could without pants. A slight twitch in the corner of Novak's mouth told him he'd failed miserably.

"I can loan you a swimsuit. Just sit tight and I'll have Ruby bring it to you." With that, Novak left the room, Dean staring after him in confusion. 


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel watched intently as Dean swaggered to the plate, his bow legs accented by the tight pants he wore. The man actually  _winked_ at the camera... which was simultaneously adorable and obnoxious. The first ball was called, then the pitcher wound up for a fastball. Castiel saw it coming before it happened, but it didn't make it any easier to see the impact and hear the sick smack of the ball hitting Dean's thigh muscle. 

He continued to watch the game, but his focus was on Dean...  _De_ _an_ _?_  When did he begin thinking of the man in such an informal way? Until now, Castiel had always thought of him as Mr. Winchester, his patient's father. 

A commercial came on and he stood up to take a break and stretch. Thinking about the baseball player was starting to consume too much of his time. Instead of turning off the television like he should, he got a glass of wine and sat back down. Dean took the mound after his hit, but the way he was moving made it obvious to Castiel that he was in pain. Typical jock... playing through the pain without caring what it does to the body. The media never discussed what happened to professional athletes later in life and how they often ended up crippled by arthritis from repeatedly injuring their bodies, mentally compromised from untreated concussions, or sometimes even permanently paralyzed from spinal trauma. In the last inning, the commentators made an announcement that Castiel finally agreed with.

" _Looks like Coach Singer is pulling Winchester from the batting lineup this inning."_

_"Yeah, Joe, it's a good call. He took quite a hit..."_

"No shit," Castiel muttered. With Dean out of play, he turned off the television and went into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. He sautéed some vegetables, added shrimp, and dumped it on a plate. He set himself up to eat at the counter and work on some charting since he was behind, but before he could even get a fork out of the drawer, he grumbled. "Dammit... Alexa, who won the World Series game tonight?" The suspense was killing him.

" _The Austin Demons beat the Los Angeles Angels. The final score was Demons seven, Angels five,_ " his virtual assistant said primly. He didn't realize he was smiling as he took out his silverware and leaned against the counter to eat.

Castiel found himself looking forward to Mackenzie's appointment. Instead of sending Billie out to get her, he stepped out into the lobby to see Dean walking the other way. His mind stuttered. How had he not noticed how deliciously bowed his legs were? He cleared his throat and caught Ruby's smirk in his peripheral vision.

 "Ruby, put Mr. Winchester in Exam Three," he said, focusing on his patient and not her  _criminally handsome_  father, as Gabriel put it. "Mackenzie, I'll be taking you to the gym and Billie can start you on your treatment."

"Hang on a sec..." Castiel forced himself to look at Dean...  _Mr. Winchester_. He tilted his head in confusion and the man just stared at him. Castiel stared back. Finally,  _Mr. Winchester_  spoke. "I... uh... why Exam Three?"

"Because I just had a patient in Exam Four and it needs to be cleaned," Castiel said truthfully, unsure why it mattered which room he put the man in. Dismissing him, Castiel smiled down at Mackenzie. "Let's go." He pushed her chair through the doors and down the hall. "How are you feeling today?"

"Okay, I guess."

"It was nice seeing you out and about. I know hospitals and clinics can get boring. Being in the fresh air is good for the healing process."

"It was just the grocery store." He got ready to comment, but she wasn't finished. "Do you cook?"

"I do. It's a relaxing hobby." She seemed very interested.

"Really? Do you bake, too? Like cakes... and pies?" He wasn't sure where this was going, but Castiel recognized the effort she was making to connect with him. Despite his reluctance to bond with another patient, he thought about what Gabriel said about having fun and enjoying his job. The truth was, he found Mac to be quite likeable, and his inherent need to make a difference was enough to keep him invested in her as a patient. He decided to let his fears go and open up a little bit.

"My specialty is cookies, but I can make other things as well. I actually have a pretty good recipe for apple pie. It's not a prize winner, but Gabriel likes it." He stopped the chair just inside the gym door and Billie headed toward them. "Billie will take over from here and I'll be back in a few minutes." He patted her shoulder and left the room. The conversation had taken much less effort than expected and he found himself feeling more at ease as he headed for Exam Three.

When Castiel opened the door, he caught the athlete spinning around on his stool. Why wasn't he on the table? Or at least in the chair for visitors? He stopped spinning and raised his eyebrows, in either embarrassment or expectation, Castiel wasn't sure. "Could you get up on the table please?" 

"Yeah, sorry," he mumbled. He smoothly hopped up on the table, making the paper crinkle loudly under him. "Why? What's this all about, doc? Is everything okay with Mac?"  _Mackenzie?_  This wasn't about... ah, maybe he should have made himself clearer. 

"Mackenzie is fine. You, however, are not. I'd like to take a look at your leg, if you don't mind." He did his best to keep up his professional facade, but Dean...  _shit, Mr. Winchester_  was frowning at him. "I watched the game last night and saw the hit you took," he admitted.

"It's not a big deal. Besides, we have a whole team of doctors on staff." Castiel felt a twinge of embarrassment... of course a Major League team had doctors on staff, probably some of the best in the country. Still, none of them were Castiel. He wasn't arrogant enough to assume he was better than them, but he knew there were very few in his field that could do what he could for the athlete. No, it wasn’t arrogance that compelled him to act. Castiel wasn't sure  _why_ he needed to help Dean... he only knew that he had to.  

"I observed the way you were walking, Mr. Winchester," he said, staring into those verdant eyes. Why couldn't the man just accept his help? When he realized he'd been staring too long, he looked away and softly said, "I can help you." For a brief moment, Castiel felt out of his depth, then quickly remembered where he was and that  _he_ was in charge here. He drew himself to his full height and pinned Winchester with his most assertive look. "Please remove your pants so I can take a look."

 "Uh... what?" Castiel ignored the question and pretended not to hear the mumbled,  _"You could at least buy me dinner first."_  He obviously didn't think this through properly because the sight of Dean Winchester in his boxer briefs... his _very tight_ boxer briefs... almost made him lose his composure. Before he could appreciate the view, Castiel's eyes landed on the bruise. He'd seen countless injuries throughout his career, many worse than this... but seeing the marred skin made him gasp. "It's not as bad as it looks. I've had worse." 

There it was again... that infuriating jock mentality Castiel was always up against. Before he could stop himself, he mounted his soapbox. "I will never understand you athletes. You act like beating the hell out of your bodies is some kind of badge of honor. It's not." 

Castiel moved closer and placed his hand on Winchester's chest to ease him back to a reclining position on the table. He began a thorough examination of the bruise and the surrounding tissue. "You need to be more careful," he murmured, almost to himself. 

"It's not like I did it on purpose. I just didn't dodge fast enough. Should've paid more attention in gym class." Was he trying to be funny? He could have  _died_. What if the ball had hit him in the head? With a considerable effort to rein in his temper, Castiel turned to get a tube of Arnica ointment and squeezed out an ample amount, warming it between his palms. He began to move his hands up and down the length of Dean's thigh, working the tight muscles until he felt the tension release under his touch. With each pass, Castiel discovered he was also becoming more relaxed. Being this close to the handsome athlete should have made him more tense than usual, but instead, he was calmer... more self-assured. It was somewhat disconcerting and his mind strayed as he tried to further analyze his reaction. Absorbed in his own thoughts, he got too close to the tender area and Winchester hissed.

"Sorry. Try to focus on relaxing the muscle. If you're tense, it will only make it worse," he said in his most professional voice. It took every ounce of self-control he could muster, since the feeling of Dean's skin beneath his hands was...  _No. What the hell?_

Then Dean let out a groan that was just this side of pornographic and Castiel's cock responded immediately, his pants tight around his growing erection. His eyes flew up to Dean's face and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat. His head was thrown back, baring his beautiful neck, and his eyes were closed. Everything about him was the picture of pure, unselfconscious  _pleasure_. Castiel wondered if he looked like that when he... 

" _Fuck_... that feels amazing, doc... you have no idea." 

He couldn't help it... the low laugh rumbled in his chest and Dean opened his eyes. "I think I have some idea," Castiel said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, look at that... you do smile." Dean's words were like cold water on him and brought him back to his senses. This was a patient's father. Not only that, but the man was a professional athlete... someone accustomed to getting anything he wanted whenever he wanted it. A man whose life was filled with money and fame and beautiful people to warm his bed on demand. Castiel would not allow himself to go there again. He had been so careless to let Dean Winchester get under his skin. He quickly finished up the therapeutic massage and washed his hands.

"I would like you to spend at least twenty minutes in the whirlpool. It won't do much for the contusion, but it will help relax your muscles." Castiel tried to sound clinical, but he heard the hint of warmth in his words and hated himself for it. Now it seemed like he cared about the man... and caring even a little bit was too much. Why was he doing this to himself? After all, Dean had a team of doctors at his disposal... he didn't need Castiel.

"I'm not exactly dressed for it, doc. And as much as the tabloids would love it, I ain't gettin' naked in front of everyone," Dean growled. He was trying and failing to look imperious... an impossible feat when one was clad in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear. He only succeeded in looking like a grumpy, pouting child. In spite of himself, Castiel's lips twitched, but he managed to refrain from smiling... barely. 

"I can loan you a swimsuit. Just sit tight and I'll have Ruby bring it to you." Castiel fled the room before he did something stupid... something  _else_ stupid. He needed get his shit together and  _keep_ it that way. He strode quickly down the hall to the staff room and opened his locker. He picked up a pair of trunks and, knowing he couldn't face Winchester yet, went to the front desk. "Ruby, please take these to De— Mr. Winchester in Three and then escort him to a whirlpool." She gave him a knowing smile... the kind he hated. He turned to leave before she could further annoy him with one of her inappropriate comments. As an afterthought, he called over his shoulder, "Please make sure he has a towel and anything else he might need. He can leave his clothing in the exam room until he's done."

"Should I set a timer?"

"No, I'll send Billie to get him once Mackenzie's daily therapy is complete," Castiel answered before making his way to the gym. Bille had Mackenzie on a table using hand weights. He smiled as he came into her line of sight, relieved to be back in his comfort zone. He was ready to take over and begin moving her legs to keep the muscles from atrophying when he spied his brother. His groan was audible and Mackenzie spun her head to see what he was looking at. She gave a delighted laugh and Castiel couldn't stay mad.

This time, Gabriel was dressed in red shorts, a white polo, and he had a whistle around his neck. The most interesting feature of his costume was the makeup. Castiel assumed he was... a zombie gym coach? His brother didn't greet him. Instead, he smiled down at Mackenzie. "Hey, Mac... do zombies eat brains with their fingers?"

She giggled, "Umm... yes?"

"No, they eat the fingers separately." Castiel and Billie groaned, but Mackenzie laughed loud enough that several other patients looked over at them. He was just about to ask Gabriel why he was here, when the intercom paged him. He had a call. 

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," he said to the small group and headed for his office. He finished his call and as he walked back, he glanced into the hydrotherapy area. He saw Dean's dark head lulled back against the headrest of one of the tubs, then glanced down at his watch. Maybe he should tell Dean to get out, since Mackenzie's appointment was almost over. It would give Dean plenty of time to get dressed. He was just being courteous,  _that's all_. 

There were several patients in the pool doing a water aerobics class, but they were focused on their instructor and didn't bother to look at Castiel as he crossed the room to the whirlpool. As he got closer, he saw that Dean's eyes were shut and his mouth was slightly parted. Castiel realized he was napping. He took the time to really look at Dean's face, so peaceful in sleep. There were shadows under his eyes, but the small crinkles at the corners were smoother, his entire countenance more relaxed than Castiel had ever seen him. He felt a stab of guilt over the way he had judged the man. Castiel had his reasons for that... but it was apparent that Dean Winchester's life was more stressful than he originally thought. He seemed to be running himself ragged between his daughter's appointments and playing in the World Series. Maybe he should let him sleep a bit longer. With one last lingering look, he left to return to his patient. 

So... Dr. Novak could cook  _a_ _nd_ bake pie. Mac filed that tidbit away for future reference. Her dad was good at cooking burgers and easy stuff, but anything more complicated than a slab of meat called for a trip to a restaurant. She imagined Dr. Novak standing in their kitchen teaching her dad how to make authentic lasagna... the  _real_ kind with ricotta cheese. She loved lasagna. They would sit around the table to eat and there would be candlelight, just like in all the cheesy rom-coms. She grimaced. No, the romance stuff would have to wait until she wasn't around. 

Moments later, all thoughts of food were gone because Billie was straight-up torturing her. If she said the words  _one more time_  again, Mac was going to scream. Her arms were ridiculously sore from all the upper body exercises she'd already done. 

Thankfully, Dr. Novak joined them. He smiled and took her foot into his hands and then stopped, frowning. He was looking at something and Mac turned her head to see. Even with the cool Zombie face paint, she could tell it was Gabriel. She giggled at his costume. He was dressed like her gym teacher at school, but the makeup was awesome. She wished she had her phone to take a selfie with the man. Her friends back home would love it.

The joke he told was so much worse than her dad's lame attempts at humor when he was around her friends. She laughed anyway because he was pretty cool and made her day more fun just by being there. She'd love to go to his shop someday. She could probably talk Charlie into taking her. Besides, she needed a Halloween costume.

After Dr. Novak left to answer a phone call, she thought Gabriel would leave with him, but he stuck around while Billie helped her sit up. "Billie, may I have some water, please?" Billie smiled and said she'd be right back. Mac took advantage of the opportunity to speak to him alone. "So... If you're the fun brother, what does that make Dr. Novak?"

Gabriel's eyes twinkled with amusement. "What makes you think he's not the fun brother?"

"Call it an educated guess," Mac answered without hesitation. She didn't know either of them that well, but she could tell that Gabriel was the fun one and Dr. Novak was the sane one who put up with it. They reminded her of her dad and Uncle Sam... he was always putting up with her dad's crap.

"Well, you're pretty clever, kid. But Cassie's fun... in his own way. What about your old man? Does he ever take it easy?"

Mac eyed Gabriel shrewdly. She knew he was trying to get info on her dad, but she couldn't be sure  _why_... not until she asked, which is exactly what she did. "Why do you want to know? Are you a big fan or something? I'm not going to bring you a lock of his hair or his toothbrush." 

Gabriel burst into laughter. "Oh, honey, I'm no more a fan than all the other comedic-genius costume shop owners. My interest is purely... academic." 

"Uh-huh... I bet it is." Mac kept her tone nonchalant as she went in for the kill. "I'm sure it hasn't even occurred to you that your brother just so happens to be a great match for my dad." She expected to catch him off guard and make him uncomfortable... she was wrong. Gabriel looked positively delighted.

"You noticed that too, huh?" He waited for her to nod. "Yeah, well... what you  _don't_ know is that Castiel and your dad have about as much a chance of getting together on their own as Mother Theresa and Snoop Dogg."   

"Aren't they dead?" 

"She is, he isn't. That's not the point." Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "The point is that we've got our work cut out for us if we want to get those two asshats together... pardon my French." 

"Ah, Je parle Français très bien, mon ami," Mac said with a laugh. Gabriel looked back at her in surprise.

"Uh... yeah, I actually flunked French in school. Props for calling my bluff, though... well-played." He pursed his lips and nodded appreciatively. She glanced up to see Billie coming back through the door. Gabriel leaned close and whispered, "Looks like we're on the same page, but keep it on the D-L, Big Mac. I'll be in touch." Then with a wink and a sideways smile, he was gone. 

Less than a minute later, Dr. Novak came back in to resume her leg exercises and cool-down. They engaged in some small talk, but Mac was preoccupied thinking about her conversation with Gabriel. As Dr. Novak's brother, he knew him better than anyone... and he agreed that the doctor was perfect for her dad. All they had to do was come up with a way to get the two men together...

Ruby, the receptionist from the pits of Hell, brought him a pair of navy blue trunks and, after she basically threw them at him, left without one of her snide comments. He stripped down and left his clothes on the exam table, then pulled the doc's swimsuit up his thighs. The fit was a little tight for Dean's taste and he had to take a moment to rearrange his junk. It definitely didn't leave anything to the imagination. When he opened the door to peek around, Ruby was standing in the hall, arms crossed. She smirked after eyeing him up and down. "There you are, all  _snug._ Follow me,big boy."  

He looked left and right. His celebrity status made him wary of everyone trying to take pictures for social media. He didn't want a photo of him wearing nut-huggers hitting Instagram. Not seeing anyone else, he followed Ruby's exaggerated sway. 

The hydrotherapy area was busier than the last time he'd seen it. In the pool, several people were doing water exercises in slow, easy motions. It looked like the kind of low-impact activity that would drive Dean insane, but he couldn't wait to see Mac get to the point where she could do it. He continued through the room, gaining confidence once he realized no one was paying any attention to him. They reached the whirlpool area and Ruby paused to punch a few buttons on the keypad. One of the whirlpools began to hum and churn the steaming water.

"Someone will come get you when your daughter's session is done," she said before leaving him on his own. He lowered himself into the hot water, bracing in case it was too hot, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He felt every muscle relax and let out a sigh of content. He'd been in whirlpools too many times to count, but the ones at the team's clubhouse were always loud and someone was always walking through. You couldn't just sink down and... and...

He was lying in a warm, sunlit bed with a blue-eyed god next to him. Hands moved over his body and he ran his fingers through dark hair... leaned in to kiss... 

"Dad... Hey... hey,  _Dad_ ," a familiar voice called, pulling him out of the wonderful dream. Dean's eyes flew open and he jumped enough that the water sloshed over the edge of the tub. He gasped, looked around wildly, and knew he was turning red. He could just blame it on the temperature of the whirlpool. 

"Sorry... must have dozed off. You ready to go, Princess?" Dean refused to meet the eyes of the man currently holding onto his daughter's wheelchair. 

"Yes, and Charlie sent a text saying your plane leaves in two hours. She said you weren't responding." Dean's phone was back in the exam room with his clothes. Deanthanked all the holy deities that his daughter interrupting his x-rated dream was startling enough to make his dick soft. He stood and took the towel Novak was holding out, still not able to face him. He'd seen the man half-naked already and after dreaming about him in his bed... feeling his hands on him...  _Jesus Fucking Christ_. Mind out of the gutter, Winchester.

"I'll take Mackenzie to the lobby and you can collect her after you've changed," Novak said helpfully. He turned Mac's chair to leave, giving Dean a nice view of his ass... which he absolutely did  _not_ need right now. 

"Yeah... that." _Nice one, dipshit_. Now familiar with this area of the center, Dean found the exam room easily and ducked inside. He shimmied out of the wet trunks, dried himself, and hurriedly dressed. 

Mac was alone in the lobby, eyes on her phone. "You ready, Mac?" Her eyes never strayed from her screen and she mumbled something that sounded like a yes.  _Kids_...

Prepared for a quiet ride to the house, Dean was startled when his daughter spoke from the backseat. "Hey, Dad?" She waited until he met her eyes in the mirror. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," he answered with a smirk. She gave him a look that said  _I'm stabbing you in my mind_. He wiped the smile off his face. "Okay, sorry... what's up?"

"What kind of guy do you like?" Dean's eyes flew to her reflection and saw that she was doing her best impression of an innocent face. When he didn't answer, she clarified. "I mean, what kind of guy would you date?"

"Huh... well..." What was it with Mac and his love life all of a sudden? "Man or woman, I want someone that likes me for who I am, not because I play baseball or because they want to get famous." He thought about it for a moment. What did he want in a partner? "Someone who makes me laugh and is honest with me, whether I like hearing it or not. And they'd have to fit in with our family." He chuckled. "I would want your seal of approval too, ya know..."  

"I've never met any of your dates," she said quietly. 

"I know, Mac. I had my reasons. The people I used to date weren't exactly relationship material. I didn't see the point in introducing them to you when I had no intention of keeping them in my life. You deserve better..." He trailed off, unable to complete the thought.  

She was quiet for a time and Dean thought the conversation was done, but when he pulled into the driveway, she asked another question. "Would you ever marry a man?" 

"That's a little more complicated, Mac. Not because of the gender... It's just that... I don't know if I ever want to get married again." He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He wanted his daughter to believe in happy endings, no matter what. He quickly amended his answer. "What I mean is... it would take someone very special for me to want to give marriage another try."

That seemed to be enough for Mac and she stayed quiet until they were inside the house. Then she looked up at him, held out both arms, and pulled him into a hug. It was the type of hug that parents loved... unprompted and devoid of ulterior motives... just because. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close for as long as she would let him. After a minute or two, she leaned back and kissed his cheek, then held his face with both her small hands and looked into his eyes. 

"I know there's someone out there for you, Daddy. And they're gonna love you with their whole heart like I do." She released him and he had to blink hard to keep from tearing up. Just then, Charlie came bounding into the room carrying his bag. 

"Time to go, boss. Your Uber's outside." Charlie seemed to sense something was up and frowned. "Everything okay? How'd your appointment go?"

"It was great, Charlie. Dad even got a nap in," she snickered. Charlie joined in making fun of him being an old man and Dean rolled his eyes, kissed Mac's forehead, and bid them goodbye. He smiled as he left, the sound of their good-natured ribbing echoing in his ears. 

When he was in the air again, Dean closed his eyes. The whirlpool really relaxed his muscles and while he wasn't as good as new, his leg felt a lot better. Good enough to run the bases anyway. He landed, met his driver, and got to the stadium long before the game. Tomorrow, he'd be flying back to L.A. to get ready for Game Five. 

By the third inning, Dean was starting to sweat. The Angels were on fire and up by four runs. When their pitcher struck Benny out in the fourth inning, Dean's hopes for a win were dashed. The next time the Demons were at bat, they scored twice, but the gap was still too big for Dean. He pitched with everything he had and kept them from getting another run. At the ninth, the Angels were holding their lead by just two.  _Two fucking runs_.

Dean slumped against his locker and waited for Rufus and Bobby to come chew them out. They'd all made too many mistakes. Strangely enough, it was Crowley that led the way into the locker room, the coach and manager both at his heels. All talking stopped as everyone faced the owner of the team. He glared at each player in turn until he got to Dean last. "You... you are the only one who has an excuse to play like shit." He pointed his finger and moved it around the room. "Nobody else on this team has one bloody reason to play like a bunch of tots in a  _fucking peewee league_." 

Oh, hell no. He wasn't about to let Crowley give him a pass while the rest of the team suffered his wrath. Dean squared his shoulders and stared the man down. "I'm no different than anyone else on the team. I fucked up just as much and there's no goddamn excuse for it. So, if you're gonna hand their asses to them, better hand me mine, too."

Crowley kept his face blank as he held eye contact. For some reason, it was much more intimidating than when he was yelling. Dean didn't back down, though. Eventually, Crowley spoke, but only to Dean. "Get your shit together and get them in line." Without another word, he was out the door. Bobby and Rufus stuck around to do a post-game analysis and give them notes for their next practice, then Dean was flying back to Dallas feeling exhausted and drained. 

The next morning, Dean was loading Mac into the car when her leg hit the door and she yelped. Dean jerked back immediately, his brow creased with worry. Mac's eyes were wide with shock. "Shit, I'm sorry... did I hurt you?" 

"I felt something..." Mac was awestruck and Dean gasped. "Dad, I felt that!" She was laughing and tears were welling up. Dean was frozen, unable to move his feet or speak. "Come on, Dad. We have to tell Dr. Novak."

Dean ran around to the driver's side and drove to the clinic as quickly as he dared. He didn't want to get his hopes up before they were certain and Novak was the only sure-fire way to get answers. He wheeled her inside and all but shouted at Ruby, "We need to see the doc now." She opened her mouth, but Dean shot her down. "Ruby, Mac felt something." For the first time, Dean felt a bit of affection for the receptionist as her face lit up.

"Come on then, let's get her back." She held the door open and Dean pushed Mac through. His heart was hammering in his chest. He hadn't felt like this since... since Mac was born. Ruby steered them toward one of the exam rooms and a startled Dr. Novak looked up from a chart. 

"Ruby?" He looked at his watch.

"No time to waste, Dr. Novak. Mackenzie..." She looked at Dean to finish for her.

"Mac felt her legs," he said, beaming. The doctor's face softened and he grinned, turning his attention to Mac.

"Let's get you up on the table then." He and Dean lifted her and Novak performed a full neurological exam to assess how much sensation had returned. As he worked, he explained everything he was doing to Mac. Dean had to clench his fists to keep himself from pacing while he waited for the verdict. Just when he was about to break, the doctor met his eyes. "It seems Mackenzie has regained full sensation in both legs as well as control of her motor function. Her reflexes and muscle strength are still below average, so I would like to adjust her therapy and take a more targeted approach. If you are available now, we can discuss this further in my office while Mackenzie works with Billie."

"Uh... yeah. Yes. I'd like that." He didn't know what else to say. There were too many emotions flying through his head. With a brisk nod, Novak led the way, handed Mac off to Billie, and gestured for Dean to enter his office. He sat down behind his desk and Dean sat in the same chair he occupied during their first meeting. So much had changed since then... and Dean couldn't help clinging to the hope blossoming inside him. 

Castiel sat with his hands folded on his desk, trying to rein in his elation for his patient. It wouldn't do Mackenzie or her father any good if he allowed his personal feelings to compromise his objectivity. He breathed in deeply, then launched into a detailed outline of Mackenzie's new treatment plan. When he was finished, he looked up asked, "Do you have any questions?"

Winchester cleared his throat like he was nervous. "I have no problem with any of those changes. As I said before, you're the best and I trust your judgment. The only thing is..." He hesitated and Castiel raised his eyebrows expectantly. "If... or  _when_... we win the World Series, the team is required to go on a two-week nationwide press tour. While I'm gone, Charlie will be taking over Mac's appointments. I hate to miss them, but since I..."

Castiel let out a derisive snort. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Actually, he could. It was just as he suspected from the very beginning. Winchester was just like all the rest of them. The minute free publicity was on the table, he was leaving his daughter behind and high-tailing it out of town. As long as he got to be in the spotlight... Castiel felt sick. Sick and stupid for thinking Dean Winchester was different than all the Barts of the world. 

He was furiously scribbling down notes in Mackenzie's chart and didn't bother looking at the other man. Finally, he couldn't hold his anger back any longer. "I understand how hard your life must be for you... with all that fame and money weighing you down. I guess it was too much to expect you to stick around and see Mackenzie through all of her treatments. Honestly, I'm surprised you came to as many appointments as you did, considering your priorities."

The room was silent. When Winchester didn't reply, Castiel looked up to see eyes filled with anger and...  _hurt._  

"Well, I guess you've got me all figured out then, huh?" He calmly rose from his chair and exited the room on silent steps. His placid demeanor spoke volumes and gave Castiel a tight feeling in his stomach. He started to go after him to apologize, but Ruby's voice came across the intercom to let Castiel know Mackenzie was ready for him. He made his way to the therapy room, his mood sinking more and more with each step. Could he have been completely mistaken in his judgment? 

Mackenzie greeted him with a smile that quickly faded when she took in his appearance. He recovered enough to put on the friendly mask he typically used when dealing with patients, but he knew she wasn't buying it. He focused on taking her through the assisted movements. It didn’t take long for her to grow tired of the silence. 

"So, doc... when do I start walking?" At his cautious glance, she continued. "I know, I know... I won't walk right away. I get that. But how soon can I start working on it?"

"We can begin tomorrow, but please remember you still have a long way to go, so you must be patient. I understand your father won't be handling your appointments for a while. I'd like to get Charlie's number so we can make her your primary contact from now on." The girl must have sensed his tension because she frowned.

"Why?"  _Oh no... her father didn't even tell her?_  Castiel wasn't sure if he should elaborate, so he said nothing. "Are you talking about the press tour? My dad already told me about that. He's only going to be gone two weeks. Why would you change my contact info for that?" 

Castiel gaped at her words as an icy dread crept into him. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard. I understood that he would be gone for..." Dean had said two weeks, but Castiel had chosen to ignore his words and jump to conclusions. He was a fool.

"Dude... my dad wouldn't miss anything of mine unless he absolutely had to. He always came to my practices when he wasn't out of town for a game. Besides, he doesn't even want to do this thing. He hates dealing with the press and says they're a bunch of vultures. He's only going because it's his last..." She stopped to breathe while she did her ab flexes. What did she mean?  

"His last...?" Castiel needed to understand.

"His last year," she continued. “He's retiring from baseball after the Series. The owner is letting him out of the rest of his contract in return for him doing a farewell press tour. It sucks, but Daddy said it will mean he'll get to focus all his time on me after that, so it's worth it." She smiled, then grew somber. "It just sucks that he won't get to be in the All-Star game. I tried to tell him to do it since it's his last chance, but he wouldn't hear of it."

"He's a good father. And... a good man," Castiel said quietly. He had been so wrong... and he had no idea what he could do to fix it. He knew the first step was apologizing and made up his mind to do so before they left for the day. Unfortunately, when he took Mackenzie out front, there was no sign of Dean. Charlie was sitting in the waiting room instead. His heart sank. 

"Charlie? What are you doing here? Where's Daddy?" There was a slight edge to her voice. Charlie held out her hands in a placating gesture. 

"Don't worry, squirt. Your dad's okay. He just needed to run some errands and asked if I could take you home. You ready to go?" Mackenzie nodded and with a wave, they were gone. Castiel watched as they drove away, his thoughts a jumbled mess of guilt and anger at himself for his behavior. He needed to make this right... he just didn't know how.  


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was happy... happier than he'd been in a long time. Mac could feel her legs. She was finally starting to heal and soon, she would get her life back. All the things she loved doing... everything she's lost... she would get it all back. He could let himself believe that now. He listened with rapt attention to Novak explain the new schedule, his mind already reorganizing and planning around their next steps. Dean hated that he was going to be away for two weeks, but there was nothing he could do about that. He started to explain the reason for his absence but was cut off by an angry sound from the doctor. 

"I understand how hard your life must be for you... with all that fame and money weighing you down. I guess it was too much to expect you to stick around and see Mackenzie through all of her treatments. Honestly, I'm surprised you came to as many appointments as you did, considering your priorities." Novak was radiating hostility and disgust and for some unknown reason, it was directed at him.

Dean sat frozen, his good spirits dashed. Did Novak think he was some spoiled-ass, self-centered prima donna? How could he even think that when Dean had done everything he could to be there for Mac? She was his number one priority... he would never do anything to compromise her care. But apparently, the good doctor had made his mind up, his scathing comments hitting Dean right where he was most vulnerable... his fear that he wasn't a good enough father.

He should have expected it, or at least kept his defenses up like he did with the press and fans. They seemed to take a sadistic pleasure in judging everything about him, from his gameplay to his life choices. Dean thought he was safe here... like he could be himself and relax while he focused on Mac. He thought Novak understood and didn't care that Dean was a celebrity. He was such an idiot for letting his guard down. He needed to get out of here.

"Well, I guess you've got me all figured out then, huh?" Without another word, he left the room and didn't stop walking until he was standing by his Impala. He wanted to shout... maybe punch something... or someone... but he was just too tired. He took out his phone and called Charlie. 

"Hey, boss, what's shakin'?" Her cheerful tone made him cringe.

"Can you come take over here? I need to run a few errands before I have to leave and..." He trailed off, knowing he'd give himself away if he kept talking.

"Sure, I can do that. Is something wrong?" Charlie was his best friend and Dean knew he could talk and she would listen. He wanted to, but he just couldn't. 

"Nah, it's all good. I'll see you at home." He hung up, relieved that he hadn't given in to his impulse to tell her what happened. Knowing Charlie, she would kick Novak's ass and then where would they be? 

Dean clenched the steering wheel as he pulled out of the lot, then loosened his grip as he lengthened the distance between himself and the doctor. He didn't like leaving Mac without saying goodbye, but he was worried what he might do if he stayed. Novak had behaved like an asshole, but it didn't change the fact that he was the best doctor for Mac. It wouldn't be easy, but Dean could keep himself in check if it meant not jeopardizing her treatment. 

He drove for several miles with no specific destination in mind. Driving cleared his head and it had been too long since he'd taken a drive simply for the pleasure of it. This time, that clarity never came. His mind was just as clouded as it had been in Novak's office and he couldn't seem to get a grip on his anger. Taking in his surroundings, Dean turned onto a one-lane road and came to a stop several miles away from civilization. 

He put the car in park, fully intending to just sit and think for a while. Instead, he exited the car and his feet carried him to the edge of a ravine, the ground hard and unyielding beneath him. Head back, hands fisted, he took a deep breath and...  _screamed_. He poured out everything he'd been holding onto... the anger, the guilt, the pain... the grief, the failures, the loneliness... He let it all go, his shouts carried away by the dry wind. 

When he had nothing left, he sank to the ground, closed his eyes, and let himself enjoy the sound of silence. There was nothing here to demand his attention... no pressure... nothing but peace and quiet. It was exactly what he needed. All this time, he'd been rushing from one crisis to the next, never once stopping for anything but the basic needs of his body. He didn't have time to grieve and he couldn't allow himself to stop until he'd taken care of everyone. Mac needed him to be strong and steady. His teammates needed the same. But here in this place, he could just  _be_.

A few minutes later, Dean stood up, dusted himself off, and climbed back into his car. He thought of nothing but the road as he drove home and before long, he was in the driveway and heading inside. It felt strange to be alone in the house and he texted Charlie to find out when they would be back. The sound of her Gremlin rumbling down the street was his answer and he went outside to greet them. 

"Hi, Daddy. Guess where we went?" Mac was practically bursting with excitement as Charlie helped her out of the car.

"No idea. Where?"

"We went to Trickster's Trousseau. That's Gabriel's costume shop. It's amazing! They have costumes for everything, even a gumball machine." She went on, barely pausing for breath. Dean hung on every word, once again enjoying the sight of Mac being a normal kid again. He had a feeling that it would never get old after all she'd been through. Once inside, he got Mac settled and held his hand up to get her to stop talking for a second. 

"Slow down, Miss Chatterbox... what did you get?" Dean couldn't wait to see what she picked out. She held up a costume for Daenerys Targaryen and he frowned. "Mac... please tell me you don't watch Game of Thrones. That show is way too grown-up for someone your age." She rolled her eyes. 

"Oh, please... I've been watching that show with Mom for..." She stopped. Dean was about to reach out and comfort her, but she waved him off and continued. "Anyway... Yes, I watch it. That ship has sailed, Pop. Sorry." She didn't look sorry at all and Dean looked at her apprehensively. Before he could respond, Mac plowed ahead. "And before you start talking about awkward stuff, Mom already gave me  _the talk_." Dean sighed in relief. He would have been willing to handle it, but it topped his list of the most uncomfortable things he could imagine. 

"Okay, fair enough. I'll find a way to get over it. I have to say the costume is pretty awesome." He was being completely honest. The thing even came with three inflatable dragons that attached to the dress and cape. It was pretty impressive.

"But, Dad, that's not even the best part. Charlie and Gabriel are gonna help me turn my wheelchair into the Iron Throne. How cool is that?" She was bouncing with glee and Dean noticed her foot twitching in response. His throat tightened.

"It's the coolest thing I've ever seen, Princess. Or should I say Khaleesi?" Then he made an exaggerated bow, much to her royal delight. In this moment, Dean was so filled with happiness, it banished all thoughts of the blue-eyed doctor. This right here... this was enough. 

Dean stepped off the plane in LA and breathed in the city around him. The air was thicker here... not like the fresh, dry air back home in Texas. The people were different, too. They fell into two extremes... either bustling through the crowd with a purpose or ambling with no particular destination in mind. It made it so much harder to move efficiently, but Dean did his best to get to the stadium quickly. 

The team met at Angel Stadium for a short practice and Dean was pleased to see them operating like a well-oiled machine. He felt confident and could almost taste the win ahead. Unfortunately, that's not what happened.

Three innings in, Victor was sliding into home when he pulled a hamstring. He was the fastest runner on the team, and losing him was enough to throw everyone off their game. The run he scored ended up being the Demons' last one of the night and the Angels slaughtered them by five runs. 

Failure was something everyone was used to feeling at one point or another. It affected each person differently, but mostly it caused a misery-induced despair that prevented progress of any kind. Defeat was different. When faced with defeat, people tended to react with rage-filled passion that caused them to rally and forge ahead. That's exactly what was currently spreading through the locker room like a wildfire. 

Dean could feel it rippling throughout the whole team. There was no failure in this room, only rage at the possibility of defeat...  _and it felt incredible_. He knew Crowley, Bobby, and Rufus had just entered the room, but he ignored them as he climbed up on one of the benches. All eyes were on him as he stood tall, his shoulders squared and jaw tight. 

"I know this is usually the part where we sit and make a list of all the shit we got wrong and how we're going to fix it. That's not gonna happen tonight." He looked pointedly at Bobby and could see that the coach understood what Dean was doing and agreed with him. "Tonight, I want all of you to focus on that rage I know you've got burning inside you. You know what that is? It's what it feels like when you're looking at defeat." He let that sink in and took time to look each player in the eyes. He raised his voice almost to a shout. "Now we may have lost the battle tonight, but we are  _not_ losing the war. That shit ain't happenin' on my watch."

A roar echoed in the small room and Dean knew it was the turning point. After back-to-back losses, the Demons would not be losing again. He was wise enough not to count his chickens before they hatched, but he could practically feel the championship ring on his finger. 

The following night, the Demons were on fire. Dean had never seen this kind of determination in his teammates before, nor had they ever played so flawlessly. When the Angels tried to steal a base, they were thrown out without fail. When their pitcher started hurling nothing but curveballs, every Demon up to bat adjusted enough to make contact with the ball each time. And when Dean was on the mound, every single Angel struck out, making it the first no-hitter of his career. It was beautiful. 

The Demons sailed to a victory over the Angels in a shutout, seven to zero. Back in the locker room, Coach Bobby congratulated them on playing the best damn game of baseball he'd ever seen. Crowley thanked them for a job well done and passed out bottles of Laphroaig Scotch with the explicit command to keep them sealed until after they won the World Series. With one more game to play, Dean could almost taste it.

Since her arms were spent after her session, Mackenzie let Charlie push her out to the Gremlin. God, she hated the yellow car... thankfully, none of her friends could see her in it. Mac remembered that Charlie hadn't heard the good news yet. She decided to have a little fun with it and put on her best  _I'm bored with life_  face. "By the way, we need milk and oh yeah, I got feeling back in my legs." 

Charlie's face was priceless. She knelt on the asphalt next to Mac's open car door and hugged her tight enough to make Mac squeak in protest. When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes. "Mac, this is... just... wow... I'm so happy, I can't find words."

Mac laughed. "That's a first." She held out her hand and Charlie took it. "I'm getting better and I'll be swimming in no time."

"I know you will, kiddo." She stood up and brushed off her knees. Once she was in the driver's seat, she grinned. "We need to celebrate. Ice cream? Hot Topic?"

"No, I have a place you're gonna love..." Crap, what was the name of Gabriel's shop? "Hang on a sec." She pulled out her phone and typed in  _costume shops Dallas._ She knew it had to be close to the clinic. Nibbling on her lower lip, she skimmed the list. The only one nearby was called Trickster's Trousseau. She turned her screen so Charlie could see it. "Here." 

"As you wish, Buttercup. You navigate." Mac pulled up the map on her phone and talked Charlie through the listed directions, then began looking for the sign.

"There it is," she said, pointing to a large building with a brick facade. The front was all windows and it was obvious this wasn't just some cheap, corporate party store. Charlie parked in front and just sat there staring out the windshield in awe. One window display featured a Day of the Dead theme, another was filled with all kinds of Halloween items... but the last window held Charlie's attention. The mannequins were dressed in realistic medieval garb and a knight was seated on a full-size, lifelike horse.  

"Holy Leonard Nimoy, I've died and gone to heaven," Charlie breathed. She made short work of getting Mac into her chair and scurried to hold the door so Mac could wheel inside. Both stared in wonder at the magical world that was Gabriel's shop. There was a young man behind the counter smiling at their expressions.

"Hi, welcome to Trickster's. My name's Kevin. Can I help you find something particular?" 

"Is Gabriel here?" Mac asked, moving her chair forward. Charlie was already lost in another dimension of brocades, metal, and leather.

"He's back in the office. Hold on, I'll get him." While she waited, Mac began to think about Halloween, one of her favorite holidays. Only eight days away, she grew sad to realize she wouldn't be home to celebrate it. She and her friend, Ben, had talked about going to the school festival together dressed as minions. That wasn’t going to happen now. She skyped with Ben the day before and he said he was ditching the event to go trick-or-treating with a few of the other boys from the swim team.

"Why the glum face, Big Mac? This place is paradise... you can't be sad here. It's against the rules," he proclaimed while pointing to a sign on the wall beside an inflatable t-rex costume. It read,  _Frowning Prohibited_ and showed a sad face with a red slash through it.

She shrugged, knowing her mood had taken a downward spiral. Even the sight of Gabriel dressed as a cowboy wasn't enough to lift her spirits. He turned to the clerk. "Kevin, can you make sure Mac's BFF is finding everything okay?" When they were alone, Gabriel pushed her over to a selection of film-quality masks and accessories. "Talk to me."

Why did grownups always want kids to spill their guts, but weren't okay with it being the other way around? "It's nothing." She touched one of the creepy clown masks.

"Well, in that case, hold on... I need my Zoltar hat." He put a finger in the air indicating for her to wait, then removed his cowboy hat, grabbed a fortune teller turban from a nearby shelf, and placed it firmly atop his head. He put one hand at his temple, then held the other one out, palm toward Mac. "You live in Austin but you're stuck in Dallas, far away from your friends. Halloween is fast approaching and you find your life is lacking in both costume and plans for this candy-filled extravaganza. This has made you..." He paused to gasp dramatically and finished, "... _sad_." He gave her an exaggerated frowny-face, then dropped the entire act so suddenly, it made her giggle. "How am I doing so far?"

"You knocked it out of the park," she responded, using one of her father's many baseball idioms. 

"Well, my young protégé, you're in luck. It just so happens that, in addition to being a world-class mind reader, I'm also the host for the annual Dallas Children's Hospital Halloween Bash."  _Great..._  just what she wanted to do... spend even more time at a hospital. "Ah, I know what you're thinking... that you'd rather be kidnapped by slow-dancing aliens than spend another minute in the hospital." She snickered at his ridiculous imagery. Her smile faded when she noticed that Gabriel had grown uncharacteristically serious. "But Mac, these kids might  _never_ go home. They may never get the chance to go trick-or-treating with their friends or have the freedom to knock on their neighbors' doors. They've lost their hair, their friends, and soon their lives, in some cases." 

She hung her head in shame and whispered, "What do you do there?" 

"Cassie and I always split the cost of the party. We hire a local shop to do carnival-style games and entertainment like jugglers and face painters. There are raffles, contests, and even a dunking booth featuring yours truly." He looked proud to be the one getting repeatedly doused in a cold tank of water. "It's a fun time and helps them forget about the sterile and boring environment they've been stuck in, even if it's only for one night. And if you want, you could be my co-host."

"Really?"

"Sure, if it's okay with your dad.  _But_ , you'll need to be outfitted in the proper attire. I can't be seen at the event of the season with someone who's  _not_ wearing a fabulous costume." He looked at her snobbishly and she laughed, her spirits lifted considerably. She let Gabriel take the lead as he showed her some of the coolest costumes she'd ever seen. As he was holding up a long, black cloak, Mac decided to voice the question she'd been dying to ask.

"What's your brother's type?" Gabriel lifted a brow and chuckled.

"Your ability to focus on the task at hand is what I admire most about you," he deadpanned. Mac didn't rise to the bait and kept staring expectantly. He sighed. "Cassie doesn't have a type. He really doesn't date much anymore." He paused and she had a feeling he wasn't finished, so she remained silent. "Kid, as much as my brother is attracted to your father... " Her face lit up and he rolled his eyes. "Let me finish before you plan the wedding. He's made his mind up not to date professional athletes... He won't do that again."

"If my dad wasn't a baseball player, would he ask him out?"

"I don't know, Mac. All I can say is...  _maybe_." The wheels in Mac's brain were spinning. After the Series was over, her dad wouldn't be a professional athlete anymore. Problem solved. It bothered her that Dr. Novak drew that line, though. He seemed like a good guy, so there must be more to the story. After all, her dad was a pro and he was the best person Mac knew. She couldn't imagine anyone not seeing that, too. Still, it couldn't hurt to try... 

Before she left, Gabriel put his number into her phone and told her to call him about the Halloween party once she talked to her dad. On the way out to the car, Mac was clutching a garment bag to her chest and Charlie was practically dancing with excitement as she put her own purchases in the backseat. As Charlie put the key in the ignition, a Jeep pulled up on Mac's side, Dr. Novak behind the wheel. "Wait," she cried out as Charlie prepared to back out.

Mac rolled down the window. "Dr. Novak," she called as he exited his vehicle. "Hey. Are you here to get your costume for the hospital bash?"

"I uh... no..." He gave her a stiff smile and disappeared into his brother's shop.  _Weird_. Ever since her appointment, he'd been  _off_. She briefly wondered if there was something she'd missed, but shrugged it off as her thoughts returned to the upcoming holiday.

At home...  _no, not home_... the rental house, Mac showed her dad the costume she picked out and he seemed so happy. Although she was sorry to see him leave for the airport, she was excited to see him play... especially since it was one of the last opportunities before he retired. When the game started that night, she and Charlie curled up on the sofa with pizza and sodas. It soon became apparent that the Demons weren't doing well at all. Charlie was swamped with answering posts on Facebook and Twitter since she managed the official Dean Winchester accounts. Mac could only imagine what the fans were saying. When Uncle Victor scored, she squealed and clapped her hands and then saw Uncle Bobby and her dad run to the plate to help him up and off the field. Things weren't looking good.

She wanted to turn the television off at the bottom of the eighth inning, but her dad raised her better than that. A true fan stayed 'til the end, win or lose. She waited for their traditional post-game call and Charlie left her alone to talk.

"Hi, Daddy." She tried to keep her voice cheerful, but the sadness she felt for her dad crept through anyway. 

"Hey, Princess." His voice was soft, but didn't sound sad at all.

"I'm sorry you guys had such a bad night. Don't worry, you'll do better tomorrow." Mac knew her reassurances sounded empty, but she didn't know what else to say. 

"Oh, I know we will. I can feel it in my bones," he said cheerfully. She snorted a laugh. 

"Daddy, really? Your bones? What are you, eighty?" 

"Nope. Just positive we'll turn it around." He took a deep breath. "Look, Mac... sometimes things are just crappy, and there's nothing you can do about it. But you can decide what to do  _after_. And I have decided that we're gonna win." 

"Just that simple, huh?" 

"Yep." He popped on the end. "I'm ready to win it all for my best girl and bring home some new bling."  

"Jeez, Dad...  _bling_? You really need to update your slang. I'm downloading the Urban Dictionary app to your phone when you get home." They took turns ribbing each other and laughing, then her dad declared that it was time for Mac to go to bed. Before she hung up, Mac remembered to ask him about the party. He was all for it and it was decided that as her date, he also needed to wear a fabulous costume. 

Lying in the dark a bit later, Mac thought about what an awesome dad she had. He was there for her without fail and she never doubted that he loved her unconditionally. Not every kid could say that. As her eyes drifted shut, Mac promised herself that she would find a way to bring her dad as much happiness as he'd given to her. 

Castiel moved through his next two appointments on autopilot, then closed himself in his office. At noon, Meg knocked and opened the door without waiting for his reply. "Clarence, let's go to the sushi place. I'm starving."

"I'm not hungry," he said quietly, not looking at her. He loved his friend dearly, but right now he needed her to go away and leave him alone.

"Okay," she said, letting the word draw out. "You know I'm here if you need anything, right?"

He met her eyes and nodded. "I know." She blew him a kiss and closed his door. Alone again, Castiel leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. With a heavy sigh, he stood up, pocketed his keys, and left the clinic.

While Gabriel visited him at work often, Castiel wasn't fond of going to his brother's shop. He was proud of his brother and of his success, but the place was garish and loud. It assaulted his senses and he always left feeling overstimulated. That, and the fact that encountering Gabriel on his home turf was like navigating a field of landmines and booby traps. Castiel wouldn't be surprised if most of the pranks stayed rigged just in case he stopped by. As he got out of his Jeep, he heard someone call his name. He turned. Mackenzie Winchester was looking out of her car window at him. "Hey. Are you here to get your costume for the bash at the hospital?"

He had honestly forgotten about it. The annual event was special to his brother and was his way of giving back. Castiel enjoyed being there for the kids and gladly went along with whatever outlandish costume Gabriel chose for him. Last year, he let Gabriel dress him in drag as a bride... which was fun until he stepped outside to find an ostentatious, white limo with Meg standing beside it dressed as a groom. "I uh... no..." Finding a costume was the last thing on his mind. He smiled and hurried into the shop. He nodded to Kevin and made his way to the back of the store. The place was fairly crowded, but that was to be expected with it being so close to Halloween. 

Gabriel was in his office and lifted his eyebrow when Castiel stepped inside. "Hey, bro... to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've done something... and it was awful." Castiel sat down on a stool and Gabriel's expression filled with concern. "I insulted Dean... Mr. Winchester... and I don't know what to do."

"What'd you do? Tell him his pitching sucks?" 

Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would I do that? He's the best pitcher in the league."

"And this is coming from my brother who hates sports. Tell me something... When the dreamy Dean Winchester strolled into the clinic with his adorable daughter, had you even watched a baseball game before?"

"That doesn't matter. What does matter is that I may have been wrong about him."

" _May_ have been wrong?" Gabe saw right through him. Damn it...

"I compared him to Bart... and I think I judged him unfairly." 

Gabriel shook his head in dismay. "Cassie..."

"I know. I allowed my baggage to impair my reasoning. It's just... he hurt me when—"

"Oh no... we're not discussing Bartholo- _douche_  anymore. That's the past and it's time for you let it go." Gabriel excelled at giving tough love when he needed it, but when he saw the stricken look on Castiel's face, he softened. "Look, Cassie... you're my brother and I love you. I know you got derailed by what that bag of dicks did to you, but I have to ask... are you still in love with him?"

"Absolutely not," Castiel answered confidently. "I hated him for what he did. Now, I mostly feel indifferent... except for the fact that I don't really date or trust people anymore." 

"You can't let him ruin your chance at happiness. You deserve more than that."

"Maybe you're right... Wait, what chance?" Castiel was confused and felt like he was missing something. He sharpened his gaze, trying to read Gabriel's meaning. His brother averted his eyes.

"I only want you to be happy. How is that ever going to happen if you don't give anyone a chance?" Gabriel didn't wait for an answer. "I'm not saying Dean Winchester's the man for the job... but would it be so bad if he was?"

"Gabriel... don't." He didn't want to hear this right now. His crush on the man was already consuming too much of his time. Fantasizing about being with him would only make things worse, especially after all the horrible things he said. No, right now his focus needed to be on mending the relationship with his patient's father. "I just need some advice on how to fix it. Can you help me or not?" Gabriel sighed heavily.

"Yes, I'll help. But only if you promise to at least think about what I said." Castiel nodded. "Good. Now, let's get down to it. The first thing you need to do is apologize."

"That's it? I already knew that, Gabriel..."

"Hold your horses, bucko. I wasn't finished. It's not as easy as you think. If you truly want to make amends, then you're going to have to be honest with Dean...  _completely_ honest." Castiel frowned again. Why couldn’t his brother speak plainly? Seeing his frustration, Gabriel snapped his fingers in an impatient gesture and tapped him on the forehead. "Hello? Anybody home in there? It's obvious... you have to tell him  _why_ you treated him that way."

Castiel felt the blood drain from his face. No... he couldn’t talk about that... not with Dean. It was the worst experience in his life... how could he share that with someone who was practically a stranger? "I can't do that. Think of another way."

"There is no other way. I don't know what you said to him, but it must have been pretty bad for you to come to me for help. The only thing you can do is be honest and explain the reason for your assholery." 

He was right and Castiel knew it. If he wanted Dean's forgiveness, he would have to open himself completely. He didn't know what was worse... making himself so vulnerable or Dean avoiding him forever. Either way, he didn't want his hurtful words to remain on Dean's shoulders. Dean was decent and kind... he shouldn't have to bear the weight of Castiel's baggage. He muttered his thanks and hugged his brother goodbye. 

With a lot on his mind, Castiel returned to the clinic. Back-to-back patients kept him too busy to dwell on the matter at hand, but he was more distracted than usual. Five o'clock finally rolled around and he found himself back in his office with the door shut. He needed to come up with a strategy for how he was going to handle the apology. 

He didn't know when Dean would return, so he went online and checked the game schedule. The team was flying out to California today, Game Five was scheduled for Wednesday evening, and they were staying in LA for Game Six on Thursday. It made sense for him to stay in there until both games were over, which meant that Castiel would have plenty of time to plan. It also meant that he would have to wait longer than he thought before he could even begin to repair the damage he'd done.

Wednesday morning, Mackenzie was bursting with excitement over her costume and the upcoming Halloween Bash. As expected, Dean did not come to the appointment but sent Charlie instead. Castiel was tempted to ask Mac about her father, but he steadfastly refused to go there, content to let the girl ramble. After a few minutes, he tuned out and became absorbed in his own thoughts. 

"What are you going to be, Dr. Novak?"

He had replay her question since he was only partially listening. "Going to be?" 

"For the Halloween thing... at the hospital? Gabriel said you dressed up every year. Would it be okay if my dad and Charlie came?" She got a puzzled look on her face and continued. "I guess it depends on when my dad leaves on the press tour... he might be gone." In typical childlike fashion, she kept going without waiting for a response. "Charlie would definitely love to come. She's going to be the Queen of Moons, ruler of Moondoor." Castiel had no idea what she was talking about.  

"Charlie is more than welcome... and your father, if he isn't traveling." Castiel was suddenly worried what would happen if Mac mentioned the party to Dean before they had a chance to talk, but it was too late to take his invitation back now. 

The rest of Mac's appointment went by in relative silence. Since adding exercises involving standing and taking steps, it required absolute focus and maximum effort. She was making excellent progress and Castiel briefly thought about calling Dean to give him an update, but he ultimately decided it would be better to wait. When the rest of the afternoon appointments were finished, he stuffed the relevant patient charts into his messenger bag so he could do his notations at home. Tonight, he wanted to watch the game. 

The loss was heartbreaking and having Henrickson out for the rest of the Series put the Demons in a precarious position... at least that's what the announcers said. Castiel turned the TV off and headed to bed. His last thought of the night was a wish for Dean's team to win tomorrow.

Thursday, Castiel hurried home after a hectic workday so he could be there in time to watch Game Six. At her appointment earlier, Mackenzie told him her father was confident the Demons would win tonight. He prayed they could pull it off and let himself imagine what it would be like to see the joy on Dean's handsome face if they won it all. He wasn't a big fan of professional sports, especially after Bart's betrayal... but Castiel was surprised to find himself cheering as Dean pitched a no-hitter, leading his team to one of the few shutouts in the history of the World Series. With every run the Demons scored, Castiel's mood lightened. Dean would probably be more receptive to his apology if he was coming off a win... or so he hoped.

According to the team's online schedule, Friday was a travel day and the final game would be played in Austin on Saturday. Tied at three wins each, it could go either way. Having seen the fire in the Demons' eyes, Castiel would bet money that they'd be victorious. He wondered whether or not he would see Dean tomorrow as he prepared for bed.

When he got to work the next morning, Castiel checked the list of patients assigned to him that day and noticed Mackenzie's session was scheduled for ten o'clock. He moved through his workout easily. As he lapped the pool, he went over potential scenarios in his head, his nerves ratcheting up with each stroke. By the time the clock struck the appointed hour, Castiel was fully dressed... and an emotional mess. He poked his head through the lobby door and peered out long enough to see Dean wheeling Mackenzie across the parking lot. 

"Ruby, please send Mr. Winchester back to my office when Billie takes Mackenzie back." He didn't wait for a reply and returned to the safety of his office. He paced the room, stopping once to straighten the files on his desk, but it was a lost cause. 

Without knocking, Dean opened the door and stood there, his face devoid of emotion. "You wanted to see me?" 

"Yes, uh, please sit," Castiel said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

"I'd rather stand, thanks," he said in a clipped tone. 

Castiel nodded. "Fair enough. It's funny.... I had an apology all worked out in my head, but now... I don’t know where to begin."

"Look, Dr. Novak, you don't owe me anything. All I expect is that you give my little girl the best treatment you can provide, nothing more."

"Dean... Mr. Winchester... " A simple apology wasn't going to work. Castiel needed to let go of his fears and dig deep. He exhaled slowly and looked away. "Several years ago, I was in a relationship with a professional golfer. I thought we were happy... that we were building a life together. But when he made it to the PGA, he decided being in a gay relationship was too risky and would hurt his chances of landing sponsors. Bartholomew wanted fame and glory above everything else, including me. He accused me of holding him back and left me without hesitation." 

"Bartholomew... as in Bartholomew Harrington?" Castiel returned his gaze and nodded his answer. "That guy's a douche," Dean said with a sneer. "I can't believe someone like you would... Wait, he's married to some blonde, isn't he?"

"Yes, a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. I assume she's his beard, since I believe he was about a six on the Kinsey scale and had never been with a woman." Castiel felt self-conscious and folded his arms across his chest.

Dean shook his head and sat down heavily. "Wow." Taking that as a good sign, Castiel sat as well... but rather than sit behind his desk, he took the seat next to Dean. He risked a glance and discovered Dean's eyes on him. "A smart guy like you should know not all pro athletes are assholes...  _but_ , I get it."

"No, you're right. I should never have passed judgment on you that way. We barely know each other and what little I have seen of you has far surpassed my generally low expectations of humanity. Your actions have shown you to be an exceptional father and a caring person. It would be an error on my part if I failed to acknowledge that, considering the ease with which I insulted you."

Dean's mouth hung open, his eyes wide. He seemed to be in shock over something, but Castiel didn't know what. The man swallowed thickly, then regained his composure. "Do you always talk like an English professor? I just want to be prepared for our future conversations." 

"Does this mean you accept my apology? I would like it very much if we could be... friends. Your daughter is an amazing individual, and I think it would be nice if you and I got along better," Castiel said.  _Friends_... that would have to be enough.

"Sure, we're good." Dean was saying the right words, but his demeaner was off. Castiel was normally quite adept at reading people, but Dean Winchester was an enigma. He stood and shifted his feet. "I have some calls to make, so I'll just wait for Mac in the lobby." He moved to go, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He turned his head. "Thanks for the apology, doc."

Before he could step out, Castiel muttered, "It's Castiel."  

Dean froze, then turned around and locked eyes with him. A smile spread slowly across his face. "See you around, Cas." Then he was gone, the door closing behind him. 


	7. Chapter 7

The flight to Dallas went by in a flash thanks to Dean's elation over their glorious win. He felt like a warrior returning from battle, the rush of victory still pumping through his veins. On the ride home, he tried to calm himself down, but it was no use. He walked through the door, the house silent as everyone slept, and went straight to the kitchen for some chamomile tea. He loathed the taste, but if he didn't do something to get rid of the adrenaline, he wouldn't get a wink of sleep. He had Sam to thank for turning him onto the stuff.

The liquid was bitter on his tongue, but he swallowed it down and quickly drained the cup. He got ready for bed and laid in the dark, willing his mind to embrace the sleep his body so desperately needed. Before long, he fell into a deep and dreamless slumber. 

The morning was filled with congratulations from Mac and Charlie. Dean was in a fantastic mood until he put the Impala in gear to drive to Novak's clinic. It had been at least a day since he spared a thought for the man and he wasn't looking forward to interacting with him. He planned to drop Mac off and retreat to his mobile sanctuary, but Ruby told him the doctor wanted to see him in his office. Dean's chest tightened as he thought back to the last time he was in there. He wanted to leave, but Dean was no coward. Whatever the doc wanted, Dean would face it head-on.

By the time he reached the door, his stomach was in knots. He schooled his face into a blank expression, squared his shoulders, and pushed the door open without knocking. It might have been rude, but he was far beyond caring about that sort of thing. 

"You wanted to see me?" 

"Yes, uh, please sit," Novak answered. The guy looked nervous. 

"I'd rather stand, thanks," he replied, waiting for the doctor to explain what the hell he wanted. 

"Fair enough. It's funny.... I had an apology all worked out in my head, but now... I don’t know where to begin."  _An apology_... for what? Being a dick? Despite the physical attraction he couldn't deny, Dean didn't need or want anything from the man. It's not like they were buddies or anything. He didn't know the doctor very well, but he thought it was likely the man didn't have many friends. He seemed like the type that didn't enjoy interacting with other people.

"Look, Dr. Novak, you don't owe me anything. All I expect is that you give my little girl the best treatment you can provide, nothing more."

"Dean... Mr. Winchester..." Dean watched as Novak's face cycled through several emotions in a matter of seconds... worry, sadness, maybe even fear. What was he afraid of? Dean had only ever been nice to the man. He didn't have to wait long to find out. "Several years ago, I was in a relationship with a professional golfer. I thought we were happy... that we were building a life together. But when he made it to the PGA, he decided being in a gay relationship was too risky and would hurt his chances of landing sponsors. Bartholomew wanted fame and glory above everything else, including me. He accused me of holding him back and left me without hesitation." 

It wasn't at all what Dean expected. He thought he'd hear some lofty speech about working together for Mac's sake or some half-assed, formal apology... but not this. He felt bad for Novak. It sounded like the golfer had completely screwed him over. "Bartholomew... as in Bartholomew Harrington?" Novak nodded. Dean couldn't see that pairing at all. Harrington was a world-famous pro that took the PGA tour by storm. He was an extremely talented golfer... and an absolute asshole. If the gossip was accurate, he also turned down every charity that came knocking on his door and refused to participate in any fundraiser or benefit for children's hospitals. People like that made Dean sick and gave all of them a bad name. Not to mention that every picture of him made Dean want to punch the smug fucker right in the face. "That guy's a douche. I can't believe someone like you would... Wait, he's married to some blonde, isn't he?"

"Yes, a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. I assume she's his beard, since I believe he was about a six on the Kinsey scale and had never been with a woman." The doctor crossed his arms over his chest and Dean's eyes were drawn to the movement. With his sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his forearms stood out beautifully. Any other time, Dean would be using every trick in his book to get the gorgeous man in bed. His jerk-off fantasy popped into his head and he shut it down right away.  _Lock it up, Winchester._

Shaking off his errant thoughts, Dean plunked himself down into the chair Novak offered earlier. "Wow..." He didn't know what else to say. It sounded like the good doctor's life wasn't quite as perfect as it seemed. Dean stared as Novak moved closer and sat down next to him. Then those blue eyes met his and he felt his heart speed up.  _Say something_... "A smart guy like you should know not all pro athletes are assholes...  _but_ , I get it."

"No, you're right. I should never have passed judgment on you that way. We barely know each other and what little I have seen of you has far surpassed my generally low expectations of humanity. Your actions have shown you to be an exceptional father and a caring person. It would be an error on my part if I failed to acknowledge that, considering the ease with which I insulted you."

 _What?_  Did Novak just compliment him? Not just compliment... he was practically  _praising_ Dean. He never imagined he would have a professor kink, but hearing such lofty words in that deep, sexy voice... it was too much. He gaped, his mind at a complete stand-still. He swallowed and gathered himself. "Do you always talk like an English professor? I just want to be prepared for our future conversations." 

"Does this mean you accept my apology? I would like it very much if we could be... friends. Your daughter is an amazing individual, and I think it would be nice if you and I got along better," Novak said.  _Ahh... there it was_. The formal apology. But the guy also asked if they could be friends. Dean was fairly confident this was a rare occurrence for the doc and his heart warmed at the thought. Yeah, he could do friendship... so why did he feel disappointed?

"Sure, we're good," Dean answered. He kept his face neutral, but inside he was frantically searching for a reason for his disappointment. Was it Novak's formal tone? No, Dean rather liked the way the doctor talked. Maybe it was guilt over the possibility that starting a friendship with him could affect Mac's care. No, neither of them would ever let that happen. What the hell was it then? He was about to just shrug it off when it hit him... He was disappointed because he wanted  _more_ than friendship from Novak. The second he thought it, Dean knew it was true. All his fantasies, all the times he couldn't pull his eyes away... he was attracted to the man and couldn't stop thinking about him. He stood abruptly, the urge to flee too strong to resist. "I have some calls to make, so I'll just wait for Mac in the lobby." He paused at the door and turned his head. "Thanks for the apology, doc."

 "It's Castiel," the doctor said quietly.  _Castiel_. He wanted Dean to call him by his first name. It was a mouthful, but he could work with that. 

Dean turned around, looked into those striking blue eyes, and smiled. "See you around, Cas." He left feeling lighter and more hopeful. They might not be anything more, but he was glad they could at least be friends. Novak... no, Cas... may be a little stuffy and rigid, but Dean honestly enjoyed being in the man's presence. The thought of seeing Cas more often once the Series was over caused a flurry of excitement to rush through him. 

After Mac's appointment, Dean rushed to grab his bag and head back out the door. Mac wished him luck and gave him a big hug to send him on his way. Two hours later, he was strolling through the player's entrance of his home stadium. The team had a short practice, then met up for dinner before turning in for an early night. Everyone was in high spirits, but the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Dean could still feel the energy from the other night simmering just below the surface. 

The following evening, the team was getting their gear on in the locker room when Dean decided it was time to tell his best friend about his retirement. He didn't want to tell the whole team right before the game, but Benny had a right to know if this was the last time they would get to play together in the pros. He pulled Benny into the empty hallway that ran behind the clubhouse. "Hey, I gotta tell you something." Dean was fidgeting as his friend stared at him expectantly. Now that the moment was here, he couldn't find the words. They'd been teammates since they started out in the minors. He knew Benny would understand, but it wasn't easy to tell him that such an important part of their lives was essentially over.

"You alright?" Trust Benny to be worried about  _him_ in a moment like this.

"Yeah... everything's good, I just..." Dean punched his glove a few times, a subconscious habit he'd developed over the years. "This isn't an easy thing to say..."

"Let me guess, this is your last game and you're retiring?" Benny's eyes were twinkling and the familiar expression made Dean relax.

"Bingo," Dean replied with a short laugh. "I gotta be there for Mac and... I'm just done, man. You know how much I love the game, but... it's time."

Benny reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Brother, you don't have to explain it to me. I get it. You gotta take care of your little girl. There ain't a damn thing that's more important than family."

"You're my family, too..." Dean's voice was quiet, his eyes on the floor. He knew he was doing the right thing, but a small part of him felt like he was bailing on his friend. 

"Yeah, but I don't need you," Benny said as he dropped his hand to elbow Dean in the side. "I'm just kiddin' around. Don't worry about me, Dean. It won't be the same here without you, but I can manage. Hell, I'll probably follow you in a year or two. My knees ain't what they used to be."  

"Tell me about it... I can hear those fuckers creaking from the pitcher's mound." As Dean anticipated, Benny grinned at his teasing words.

"Besides, it ain't like you're going anywhere. We'll still hang out," Benny said, his warm smile telling Dean that his friend really was happy for him. Dean slung an arm over his shoulders and together, they walked back into the locker room just as Crowley, Bobby, and Rufus were entering through the opposite door. The space fell silent when the owner stepped forward. As always, the man was dressed impeccably in a crisp, black suit with a red tie to complete the look. 

"Okay, Demons, this is it... everything you've worked for culminates tonight." He paused for effect as his eyes swept over each player. "I'm not going to bore you with sentimentality or some clichéd rousing speech. I will say that when I bought this team, I only cared about turning a profit. I never gave a rat's arse about team spirit or hometown pride or any of that nonsense. You, my Demons, have changed that. Whether we win or lose tonight, I am proud of each one of you. Of course, if you don't win, I'll send all of you straight to Hell." He cracked a smile and everyone roared with laughter. He yielded the floor to Bobby.

"You all know what to do. Every single one of you got here because you're the best players in the League. Just remember that and we'll be sittin' pretty with that ring on our fingers." He straightened his ballcap and ended with his usual motivating line. "Let's go out there and kick it in the ass."

The team cheered as Dean led them onto the field. The crowd started chanting the team's name and waving flags in the shape of flames. With the black seats serving as the backdrop, it looked like the stands were on fire and a thrill rushed through him. The pregame festivities were incredibly over-the-top, but Dean appreciated the extra attention paid to the momentous occasion. After all, how many times did pros actually get to play in the World Series?

The first inning was an even match-up. Dean stepped up to the mound and wound up for his first pitch. He felt the raw power in his arm as he threw a record-breaking fastball right over the plate. The speed was clocked at 105.6 miles per hour, according to the display on the jumbotron. The fans went wild over it, but Dean stayed focused on the task at hand, striking out three batters in a row. The Angels never even got to first base. When the Demons were up to bat, the Angels struck out the first two batters, then caught a flyball for the third out. Any other game, Dean might have let it shake his confidence, but this time was different. He had faith in his team and in himself. Knowing Mac was watching from the owner's box only strengthened his resolve to win.

Throughout the following innings, the Demons showed the world what perfect teamwork looked like. They moved in perfect sync with each other, every player instinctively knowing where to go, what they needed to do, and when to make their moves. At the start of the ninth, the Angels were ahead by one run, the score three to two. Dean struck out two of their batters, but the third hit the ball to center field and ran to first. The next batter had two strikes and on the third pitch, he hit a line drive that shot between second and third. Zeke, the team's shortstop, caught the ball and tagged the runner out, then fired it across the field to first base before the Angel got there, earning their third out. It all happened so fast, the fans didn't fully react until they showed the slow-motion replay on the jumbotron. 

The Demons took their turn at bat and Benny was up first. The stadium grew quiet, then began a low hum that gradually got louder. It was the fans' favorite cheer and they only used it for their resident power hitter. The pitcher threw a curve ball, but it didn't matter. Benny slammed the bat against the ball and sent it flying over the back fence. The crowd's hum turned into a roar as the low note rose to say  _"Iiiiiiiiiiit's.......OUT OF HERE!"_ Benny tossed aside the bat and ran all the way home at a leisurely pace, the fans cheering him all the way as he tied the score. 

By time it was Dean's turn at bat, the bases were empty and they had two outs. Dean swung at the first pitch and missed. The second was high and inside, making it ball one. He stepped out of the batter's box, lowered the bat to tap the dirt off his cleats, then took a second to close his eyes and breathe deeply. His nostrils filled with the scent of recently cut grass, the dust from the rosin bag, and the meaty scent of the hot dogs from the stands. All of these smells reminded him what he loved most about the game... the groundskeepers who worked tirelessly to make the stadium beautiful... the players who tossed the rosin bag hoping to gain even the slightest advantage over their opponents... the fans who showed up without fail to support their team and for the simple love of the game. Dean savored the moment, knowing it was his last time at bat for the Demons, then he stepped back into the box and tightened his grip, the leather of his gloves creaking beneath his hand. 

He looked up to the pitcher, their eyes meeting for just a fleeting second, but it was enough. Dean saw the windup and knew the pitch before it was thrown and he swung with all his might. There was a loud crack as the wood met the ball and sent it high over right field. It hovered close to the line, then at the last instant, it arced inside the foul line and barely cleared the fence. He had just hit the first home run of his career and won the World Series. The crowd went insane, the announcer screaming at the top of his lungs so excitedly, nobody could understand him. Dean ran, his pride and joy swelling more as his feet made contact with each base. As he neared the end of his circuit, his teammates burst out of the dugout and stormed him as soon as he touched home. Benny and Garth grabbed his legs, hoisted him onto their shoulders, and paraded him around the field, the rest of the Demons jumping and pumping their fists alongside.  

Moments later, a member of the press was thrusting a microphone in his face and asking him what his plans were. He knew in his heart that now was the perfect time. He smiled and found the camera lens. 

"I was gonna wait until the press conference, but since I've cleared it with the bosses, here goes... This is it for me. I'm retiring." The hush that fell over the crowd was a little overwhelming. The fans were clearly shocked by his announcement. He wasn't sure what to say, so he just answered the original question. "I want to spend more time with my daughter... hell, maybe even take a real vacation. Hey, Mac, want to go to Disney World?" Laughter swirled around him as he headed toward the locker room, leaving his home field for the final time.

As he entered the locker room, he was halted by the sudden sound of cleats stomping in rhythm, hands clapping along as the noise grew louder and louder. As the speed increased, the beats blended into a roar that bounced off the walls and ceiling, the echoes ringing down the hall. He walked past each player as they patted him on his shoulders, head, and back... anywhere they could reach. This was their way of saying goodbye. It was a sign of respect and Dean felt his eyes stinging with unshed tears. These guys were part of his family, some of them for more than a decade. It wouldn't be easy to leave them behind, but as he told Benny... it was time.  

Mac kept waving at her dad as the car disappeared from view. She dropped her hand and dialed Gabriel's number right away. It rang three times before he picked up.

"Yello?"

"Hi, Gabriel, it's Mac." She hoped he wouldn't think it's weird she was calling him. Nobody ever really talked on the phone anymore... Mac only used it to call her dad. She should have texted.

"Big Mac! What's shakin'? Got big news for me?" The sound of rustling packages came through the connection. 

"Yep. Dad says I can do the party with you. What time do you want me there? Do I need to bring anything? What does a host have to do?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... one question at a time, inspector. Just bring your fabulous self and be there an hour before it starts. I will, of course, be late. It'll annoy my brother to no end, which will be highly entertaining for me." Mac snickered. Gabriel was truly immature sometimes.

"You're a terrible brother," she laughed. Gabriel gave a huff of mock exasperation and Mac took advantage of the moment to unveil her idea. "But I know how you can redeem yourself. I have a foolproof plan to get my dad and your brother together in a social setting. Are you interested?"

"Hmm... maybe... what'd you have in mind?" The bait was dangling.

"Well, this Saturday is Game Seven. It's kind of a big deal since it's my dad's last game of his career. They're totally gonna win, but even if they don't, he'll feel like celebrating after..."

"I'm intrigued. Go on..." The hook was set. 

"Well, I was able to get two extra VIP passes for the owner's box and I thought it would be great if you and your brother came to the game... as our guests." Getting the extra passes had been the easy part. Her dad said Mr. Crowley invited her, Charlie, and Sam to sit in the owner's box during the final game. Mac simply waited for him to get into the shower and used his phone to call the man himself. Mr. Crowley was pleased to grant her request. With the tickets secured, Mac went for the hard sell to reel Gabriel in. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you absolutely should  _not_ let it pass you by."  

Without hesitating a bit, Gabriel answered, "Okay, I'm in."

"You're in? Just like that?"

"Yep. I gotta say, it's a good plan. I'm not exactly one to meddle in my brother's life..." Gabriel paused when Mac snorted in disbelief. " _But_... even I have to step in sometimes. What's your big plan? Oooo, can I name it?"

"Uh... I guess..."

"Sweet. Let's give it a cheesy celebrity couple name. How about CasDean? No, that sucks... Deestiel?" Mac grunted her disapproval. "I've got it...  _Destiel_. Because they're  _destined_ to be together." 

"I like it. You're a genius," Mac decreed.

"That's what I'm always saying. Anyhooo... how do we carry out Operation Destiel?"

Mac laid out her  _foolproof plan_  and agreed to text him the time and place they would meet. She would take on the task of bringing it up with Dr. Novak at her next appointment and Gabriel promised to get his brother there. This would work... 

Mac entered the clinic the next morning with a determination she hadn't felt since her last swim meet. By the time Dr. Novak made his entrance, Mac was already in the pool. She beamed up at him. Operation Destiel could commence. She'd been thinking about what she was going to say since the phone call with Gabriel. In the end, she decided to keep it simple.   

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" She asked the question innocently, stretching her legs out to kick as instructed.

"Tomorrow? Uh, no... why do you ask?" When he tilted his head like that, it reminded Mac of a puppy. Sure, he was old like her dad, but the guy was still cute. Even Charlie thought so.

"Well, we've been invited to sit in the owner's box for the final game tomorrow night. Mr. Crowley said I could invite two friends, so I was wondering if you and your brother would like to come." She made sure to shrug like it wasn't a big deal. "I mean, if you're not busy..."

"That's very generous of you, Mackenzie... but surely you would rather hang out with friends your own age."  _Crap_... he was proving to be a hard nut to crack. She figured he would jump at the chance to see the game. Most fans would kill to watch the final game in the owner's box. She had to think of something else... something he couldn't say no to... 

"Umm... all of them have plans already. Besides, we haven't really hung out since..." She looked down and gestured toward her legs. Her conscience elbowed her and she inwardly told it to shut up. It was a shameless ploy, but she didn't care. Her dad's happiness was worth the potential risk of bad karma. Dr. Novak's eyes grew soft and he patted her shoulder in sympathy. She added another angle to convince him. "Don't you think Gabriel would want to go?"  

"Saturdays are his busy days at the shop, especially with it being this close to Halloween..." 

She cut him off. "If he goes, will you?" He was really looking at her now... almost like he knew she was up to something. She held her breath as a few seconds ticked by. Finally, he nodded.

" If yo u c a n pul l  G ab riel  away from the shop f or the  e vening, then yes ...  I' ll go."  She  reined in her elation  and kept  her face  calm . She was tempted  to triumphantly declare  that  his brother  already agreed, but  she restrained herself. It was  best  to let  Gabriel to take it from here.

Castiel was just sitting down to dictate notes for a patient when his doorbell rang. He got up to answer it and became annoyed when it rang twice more by the time he got to the door. He flung it open, ready to give whoever it was an earful and scowled when he saw that it was Gabriel.

"Here." Gabriel shoved a bag at Castiel's chest. He looked down at the logo on the front, then took in his brother's appearance. He was wearing a Demons sweatshirt and baseball cap while brandishing a flag with fire on it. Castiel's brows furrowed in confusion. "You need to look like a fan... of the whole team, not just Dean Winchester." He snorted when he noticed the blush spreading across Castiel's face. 

"Why do I need to look like a fan? What's this about, Gabriel?" Castiel opened the bag and rifled through the contents. There was another flag, a cap, and a jacket that was obviously expensive. 

"It's about the fact that you have the bestest brother in the whole world." He paused for effect, but Castiel just stared blankly. Gabriel sighed dramatically. "What has two thumbs and just got tickets to the final game of the World Series? This guy," he said before Castiel could respond, pointing to himself with his own thumbs.

"You... what?" Castiel couldn't believe his luck. He wanted to see Dean play just once and this was the last opportunity. He really did have the best brother... who was incidentally looking very pleased with himself. "Gabriel... how did you...?"

"Please... you know I'll never tell. A magician never reveals his secrets." He crossed his arms stubbornly.

"Mackenzie gave them to you." Castiel probably should have just let Gabriel think he was being tricky, but he couldn't resist. His brother dropped his arms and actually  _pouted_.

"Why do you suck so much? I mean really...  _why?_ " It didn't help that Castiel was failing to stifle his laughter as he put the jacket on. He handed the rest of the bag back and his brother's face fell.

"You have to wear the hat." Gabriel looked determined, but Castiel had to draw the line.

"If I put the hat on, the only place I'm wearing it is that couch," he said, pointing at his living room. They stared each other down for a few seconds before Gabriel decided to give in. 

"Fine, but I'm driving." Gabriel was only trying to win  _something_. Castiel knew his older brother loathed driving, especially over long distances. He chose to throw the guy a bone.

"How about I drive and you get to pick the music?" This seemed to mollify him... at least until they got on the road.

Traveling with Gabriel was like having a toddler in the car. The drive to Austin should have been relaxing, but no... Gabriel was babbling incessantly about statistics, RBIs, and other baseball related topics Castiel had no interest in... unless it involved Dean. He couldn't deny that his fascination with the sport was limited to one specific player. 

After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at the stadium and parked in the special lot designated for the luxury boxes. Castiel felt a mixture of elation and discomfort when they strolled through the private entrance. Somewhere on the other side of the park, fans were standing in lines that stretched around the block just trying to get their tickets scanned. Walking right in this way felt like he was cheating the system somehow. He stopped as Gabriel handed their passes to the staff member at the door, then followed the directions to the concierge desk. An elegant, well-dressed woman welcomed them cordially. Then she snapped her fingers and a younger man in a Demons polo shirt hastened over to usher them to the elevator. He even pushed the damn button for them and Castiel shook his head in disbelief.  

"Well, Cassie, I could get used to this," Gabriel said as he rubbed a hand over the expensive woodgrain paneling. 

The usher smiled. "Wait until you see the owner's box. Mr. Crowley spares no expense for his guests." 

The elevator opened to a massive hallway. One side was made entirely of windows overlooking the field below, the stands already teeming with fans. Castiel felt a surge of excitement as they neared a heavy wooden door emblazoned with the Demons logo. The usher opened it with a flourish and the mouthwatering smell of grilled meat filled Castiel's senses. His eyes were drawn to a woman in a chef's hat standing at a small stove. Steaks... the woman was grilling steaks, each one cooked to the guests' specifications. It was a far cry from the hot dog vendors in the stands. 

"Dr. Novak," Mackenzie's voice rang out over the din and he found her sitting near the back wall, which was also made of glass. Plush armchairs spanned the entire length to provide the best view of the game. Gabriel grabbed his arm and led the way through the surprisingly large crowd.

Gabriel bent down to hug Mackenzie and then straightened to shake Charlie's hand. An extremely tall man stood next to the wheelchair, his hand resting on one of the handles. He was eyeing Castiel curiously. "This is my Uncle Sam," Mackenzie supplied as an introduction. "Uncle Sam, this is Dr. Novak and his brother, Gabriel."

"Please, call me Castiel," he said as his hand was enveloped in Sam's huge one. 

"Nice to finally meet you, Castiel. I've heard a lot about you," Sam smiled.

"Good things, I hope," Castiel replied as he accepted a passing glass of champagne. 

"Of course. Mac here practically worships you." Sam dodged as Mackenzie reached back to swat at him.

"Silence, you. Go brush your hair or something." Her eyes were sparkling with satisfaction as she teased her uncle. As if on cue, he bent down and shook his hair in her face. "Ugh, knock it off.

Sam laughed as he stood back up and stepped around to stand beside them. Castiel suddenly realized his brother had been strangely silent. He turned to find Gabriel gaping at Sam like he couldn’t believe he was real. He noticed Castiel's quirked eyebrow and snapped out of it to extend his hand in greeting. 

"Well, it's  _very_ nice to meet you, Sam." Gabriel's grin stretched all the way across his face as Sam shook his outstretched hand. 

"Likewise," he replied, returning Gabriel's smile. "Are you a big fan?"

"I am now," Gabriel smirked. Castiel watched as his brother started blatantly flirting with the man. As much as Gabriel annoyed him, Castiel didn't want to see him get shot down, especially by someone so attractive. It was like watching NASCAR... he couldn't look away from the impending disaster. "So... you come here often?" 

Castiel expected Sam to groan at the trite pickup line, but he was shocked to see him burst out laughing instead. "Wow... smooth  _and_ subtle. Nice." Sam ran a hand through his hair and Gabriel shrugged. 

"Can I buy you a drink?" Gabriel jutted his arm out in invitation. 

"The drinks are free, Gabriel," Castiel interjected.

"Shh... let the pretty man answer. How about it, handsome?" Gabriel seemed nonchalant, but Castiel knew better. The man may have been a relentless flirt, but he rarely asked anyone out. He didn't take rejection well and usually only dated someone if they asked him first. Castiel admired his brother's courage. After all, he didn't even know if Sam Winchester was straight or not. 

"Sure, let's go. But only if you let me get the next round," Sam said with a dimpled grin. Castiel smiled as they walked away together, his brother practically bouncing with each step. 

He felt a tap on his hand and turned to find Mackenzie looking at him expectantly. It took him a few seconds to realize she was silently asking to hold his hand. His heart warmed as he closed her small hand in his. She gave him a slight smile and tugged him along as Charlie steered them toward the wall of windows. It really was an amazing view. A ruckus behind them made Castiel turn around to find a distinguished looking man in a dark suit at the door surrounded by some of the guests. "That's Mr. Crowley, the team owner," Mackenzie said. "Daddy says he's an asshole with a heart of gold." 

Charlie's eyes widened in shock. "Not cool, Mac. No potty-mouth in front of your doctor... or anyone else." Her voice was stern, but Castiel saw her hiding a grin.

"Hey, I was just quoting dad," Mackenzie muttered, with a roll of her eyes. "Ms. Shields says when quoting others, one must be completely accurate," she said in a haughty impression of her teacher. Once she made her point, her expression changed to wonder again. "Isn't this place amazing? There's all kinds of food and stuff...  _Hey, look,_ " she suddenly shouted. "It's Dagon." Castiel spied the team's mascot as he entered the room. "I need a selfie," she said to Charlie. He stayed put as they wove through the crowd, then watched as Dagon shook hands with Mackenzie and posed next to her. He held his breath as she stood for one of the pictures. She had to hold onto Charlie's arm, but she did it. Castiel was beaming with pride. 

Everyone settled down as the teams took the field, then cheered as the players were introduced one by one. He was thrilled to hear that the cheers for Dean were the loudest. After the National Anthem,  Castiel's eyes were fixed on Dean as he jogged to his place on the pitcher's mound. The jumbotron showed a close-up of his face, his expression radiating determination. His arm fired the first pitch like a rocket and the speed was incredible... the ball so blurry, it could hardly be seen as it crossed the plate. Screens around the stadium flashed the speed and declared it a record-breaking pitch. The crowd went wild, but Dean's focus never wavered.  

The rest of the game was riveting and both teams gave everything they had. Then the final inning hit and it was like someone flipped a switch. The Demons stopped the Angels from advancing, their incredible teamwork giving them the edge as they entered the bottom of the ninth. Benny Lafitte was up to bat, and the crowd's special cheer for the man was fantastic when he hit it out the park and tied the score. Two outs later, it was Dean's turn at bat. Everyone in the box was at the window, the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Mackenzie was clutching Castiel's arm, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

The camera zoomed in on Dean's face as he stood outside the batter's box. Castiel was entranced as Dean closed his eyes and looked so peaceful in the midst of such an intense situation. It was a breathtaking and beautiful thing to witness. Castiel wondered if anyone else noticed or if it was just him. Dean stepped up to the plate and by the look in his eyes, Castiel knew he wasn't going to miss this time. The crack of the bat echoed throughout the stadium and every eye was glued to that ball. When it barely cleared the fence, the room erupted into cheers and applause. Castiel was being hugged by complete strangers. Crowley, the team's owner, was quiet, but a small smile touched his lips. 

"Shhhh," someone hissed rather loudly and the room quieted. Dean's handsome face was once again on the jumbotron. He was flushed and sweat trickled down the side of his neck, but to Castiel, he was perfect. A microphone was shoved in front of him.

" _Dean, you just led your team to victory and won the World Series. Everyone wants to know... what are you going to do to celebrate?_ "

Dean looked into the camera and grinned. "I was gonna wait until the press conference, but since I've cleared it with the bosses, here goes... This is it for me. I'm retiring." The crowd sat stunned. All eyes in the room turned to Crowley. He just shrugged and pointed at the screen. Dean continued, "I want to spend more time with my daughter... hell, maybe even take a real vacation. Hey, Mac, want to go to Disney World?" The crowd laughed at the cliché. 

Even though Castiel knew about Dean's retirement, hearing him announce it live was deeply moving. He felt as though he'd been in on a secret that only those closest to Dean knew about. It made him feel special... like he was an extension of Dean's family. His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

Once the press was satisfied, the teams returned to their respective locker rooms, and Castiel found Gabe at the bar. He was talking animatedly as Sam shook with unrestrained laughter. "Gabriel... we should go. The traffic will be a nightmare."

"Go? But, Cassie, it's party time," he said, raising his martini glass. The liquid inside looked like toxic waste. Castiel opened his mouth to argue, but the owner called for everyone's attention and all heads turned toward Crowley.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you are here with me, that means you are invited to the party for your 2017 World Series winners, the Austin Demons." Everyone cheered and whistled. He raised his hands to stifle the noise. "In a few minutes, the team will meet me in the press room for a brief interview with the media. After that, we will proceed to the Demons' Lair for the celebration. Feel free to have a cocktail and enjoy the food here until one of my staff comes to escort you." 

He left with just as much fanfare as when he arrived. "See? Party time," Gabe said with a nudge to Sam's elbow for a show of support. Sam lifted his drink and nodded emphatically. "Have a drink, bro. Loosen up," Gabriel commanded. Castiel heaved a sigh and asked for a Coke. _Someone_  had to drive them home. He left his brother to his own devices and walked back over to Mac. 

She was flushed with excitement and almost bouncing in her wheelchair. The doctor in him wondered if it was too much activity for her. She was only beginning to regain her mobility and he didn't want her to overdo it. He took a deep breath, then another. His brother was right... he needed to lighten up. "Do you need me to get you anything, Mackenzie? Something to drink... or eat?"

"No thanks, Dr. Cas. I'm okay."  _Dr. Cas_? Apparently, her father's shortened version of Castiel's given name was becoming a family tradition. She didn't use it earlier... he could only assume the change was due to them bonding over their mutual anxiety during the game. "You're staying for the party, right?" She asked, her eyes hopeful.

"We will stay long enough to congratulate your father, but it's a long drive home..." Then something occurred to him. "Are you driving back to Dallas tonight?" The idea of Mackenzie and Charlie driving alone this late at night bothered him.

"No, we're staying at our house then driving back to Dallas Sunday afternoon." Castiel was relieved. "We've got two guest rooms. You guys could just stay with us," she said innocently. 

Castiel chuckled. "I don't think that would be entirely appropriate." He glanced at Charlie and she was doing her best not to laugh. Was he missing something? 

"Okay then... let me know if you change your mind." With a parting smile, she wheeled away. Castiel returned to the bar to wait with Gabriel and Sam. He hung back a little and watched the two men interact with each other. They were currently engaged in a passionate discussion about something, both of them gesturing in excitement, occasionally reaching out to touch an arm or a shoulder. Castiel was surprised at the warm looks they were giving each other. He knew his brother well enough to see the difference between his typical, casual flirtation and... whatever  _this_ was. He didn't know Sam Winchester, but if he was half the man Dean was, then Gabriel was in good hands. 

Suddenly, in a room packed with people, Castiel was brutally aware of how lonely he felt. He longed for companionship often, but he'd grown accustomed to his solitude... or maybe he just accepted it because he had to. He never enjoyed being alone and watching his brother connect with someone new threw his reality in sharp relief. He thought back to Gabriel's words from the other day. Castiel didn't know if Dean Winchester was the companionship he was longing for, but... would it be so bad if he was?

 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean sat behind the mic and fielded questions for several minutes before Crowley put an end to the barrage. "Alright, enough. The team has got some celebrating to do, so you'll just have to direct the remainder of your questions to the PR department." The hands that were still up dropped and Crowley leaned into his mic. "Before we part ways, I have an announcement to make. This has been Dean Winchester's home for the past ten years. He's been an exemplary player and a phenomenal leader. We are proud to call him one of our own and let him know that he will always have a place here." 

The room filled with applause. Then Crowley gestured for them to stop. "A player like Dean Winchester is without equal and can never be replaced. Those cleats are much too big to fill. Therefore, the franchise has decided to permanently retire jersey Twenty-Four. The one worn in today's game will be preserved and displayed in a place of honor to commemorate his time and service to the Austin Demons."

Dean met Crowley's eyes and the respect he saw there made up for the years of badgering, name-calling, and griping. Crowley gave him a barely distinguishable nod and Dean knew that was all he was going to get from the owner. There wouldn't be any hugs or warm and fuzzy words... but it didn't bother him one bit. Crowley had just given him the highest honor a professional athlete could get.

The locker room smelled heavily of testosterone as Dean looked around at his teammates. They went above and beyond in proving themselves tonight and were riding the high that came from knowing they were the best. Steam was billowing out of the shower area and Dean stripped down to his jock. With a towel slung over his shoulder, he stared at his locker and ran a fingertip over the vinyl letters that spelled his name.  _Winchester_... he closed his eyes and gave his father a passing thought. Would his dad be proud of him now that he had a World Series ring? Dean wasn't sure it would be enough. After he came out, his father disowned him and they didn't speak until John was in hospice care after losing his fight with cancer. Even on his death bed, John wasn't pleasant and he certainly didn't make it easy... but Dean eventually made peace with the man. 

"Your fans are waiting, Winchester," Benny said behind him and he turned with a wry smile. Benny had a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water clinging to his skin. He objectively thought his friend was attractive, but he'd never been attracted  _to_ him. Their bond went far beyond that. 

" _Our_ fans, Lafitte. I'm just another part of the team... no more, no less," Dean said humbly. And he honestly felt that way. He would not be standing here without his teammates. Garth walked by the two of them and used his towel to swat Dean's bare ass. He yelped and rubbed his backside. God, he was going to miss this. It was like having an entire roomful of brothers, every one of them dependable, loyal, and fun to be around. 

The players waited until they were together so they could enter the Demons' Lair as one. The invited guests would arrive soon, but for now, the room was theirs. After not drinking for several months, Dean was beyond ready to party. The bartenders were pouring from very expensive bottles of champagne as Crowley used a chair to climb up and stand on the bar. He pointed to the long row of glasses lined up across the bar and held out his own. "My last speech for the night, I give you my word," he said, placing his other hand over his chest in a sincere gesture. Dean picked up a flute and his teammates moved to do the same. When everyone had a glass, Crowley raised his in a toast. "To the Demons, the best goddamn team in baseball." 

The soft clink of glasses filled the room and they took their first sip in unison. The sound of the crystal brought to mind a woman Dean once dated. Her name was Bela, a socialite from one of the many Texas oil families. She had been far too upper-class for him, had vast knowledge of culture and art, and she spent a great deal of time educating Dean... whether he wanted it or not. Most of what he learned had been purged in a haze of whiskey the night they broke it off, but he had inexplicably retained one thing... the reason for clinking glasses during a toast. 

The tradition began as a way to incorporate all five senses when experiencing wine. The drinker was supposed to see the wine by holding it up to the light, smell it to take in the scent, feel the weight of the glass, and the taste part was obvious. The only sense left was hearing and somewhere along the way, some snooty bastard got the idea to clink the glass so the ears weren't left out of the experience. Dean could understand the symbolism... but the idea of going through such an elaborate ritual every time he wanted to get his drink on seemed absurd. He had no freakin' clue why the hell he was thinking about it now.... just the knowledge of it made him feel pretentious.

He shrugged off the memories of one of the worst people he'd ever dated and turned his thoughts to celebrating with his team. He had no intention of getting wasted, but he fully intended to leave with a happy buzz. He knew Charlie had his back and would get him home in one piece. He was downing the last of his champagne when the doors burst open and a crowd of people filed into the club. Sam's freakishly tall form made it easy to spot him right away. Mac was right behind him, Charlie pushing her wheelchair through the throng. He grinned and hurried to his daughter's side, then grabbed the arms of her wheelchair, whirled it in a circle, and bent down to wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. Her carefree laughter was like music to his ears. "We did it, Princess."

"You were awesome, Daddy." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his home run ball. The person that caught it was kind enough to make sure he got it. An act like that could only have come from a true fan and it restored Dean's faith in humanity. That thing would be worth a lot of money one day, but the guy knew how much it would mean to Dean. He made a mental note to ask Crowley's assistant to track the man down so he could send him some signed memorabilia. Dean held the ball out to his daughter. Her eyes widened as she took it reverently. "Oh, Daddy..."

"Hang on to it, sweetheart. That's going in my trophy case," he told her before turning to hug his brother. The moose almost lifted him off the ground, but Dean didn't even bother to complain. Sam finally released him and Dean pointed to the bar. "Drink up, Sammy. I'm payin' tonight."

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Crowley was the one buying the booze. He turned to talk to someone behind him and Dean's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't because of the short guy he recognized from the clinic... it was the blue-eyed doctor standing next to him with the gorgeous smile. How did he get into the club? Come to think of it, how did he even get tickets? Suddenly, those eyes locked on his and all coherent thought went out the window. "Hello, Dean." He tilted his head when Dean didn't respond. "Mackenzie invited us. I hope you don't mind..." 

Five sets of eyes were on him and he couldn't think of a single word to say. When had Dean Winchester ever been thrown off his game this badly?  _Speak, dumbass._  "Uh... Hi, Cas." 

Cas' face fell and he looked at his brother with resignation. "Perhaps we should go." Dean caught Mac's eye and took in her disappointed look.  _Christ_. 

"No... please don't. I'm glad you're here... really," he said, his confidence coming back. "I'm sorry, I should have thought about the passes myself." Someone cleared their throat and the small group dispersed, leaving Dean alone with the doctor. "Would you like a drink?"

"Maybe just a coffee. I have to drive back to Dallas in a little while." Dean's mind was spinning. Seeing the man here in a social setting was really fucking with his equilibrium. The safe setting of the clinic made it easier to keep him firmly in the role of Mac's doctor... easier to keep his mind from drifting to other possibilities.

"You're driving back tonight?"  _Duh, didn't he just say that, Winchester_?

"Yes. Even if we wanted to stay, I would imagine all the hotels are all full." Dean nodded, trying not to think about the two extra guest rooms he had. Inviting the sexy doctor to a sleepover would  _not_ be a good idea. 

"Yeah, the city is packed with fans of both teams," Dean agreed. "I'm gonna grab your coffee. Cream and sugar?"

"Yes, please," Cas said with a hint of a smile. Dean fled as fast as he could without looking like a nutjob. At the bar, he concentrated on breathing... in... out... in. 

"Can I get you something, sir?" The bartender was cute... Casey, according to her nametag. She had sleek brown hair that fell to her waist and a body made for sin. Any other time, Dean would be all over her, but not tonight. His mind was too preoccupied with filthy thoughts about one person and one person only. He tried to get his shit together, but he didn't understand why he was so flustered. 

"Jack, straight up, and a coffee please." The bartender nodded and all too quickly, the beverages were in his hands and he was turning to head back in Cas' direction. Dean paused to take in the view. The doctor was standing in the same place, but his attention was on the large television playing highlights of the game. He was wearing jeans that hugged his body in all the right places... they looked almost painted on his athletic frame. The button-down shirt was dark, its color indistinguishable in the dim lighting of the bar. The finishing touch was a jacket emblazoned with a Demons logo. He wondered how new it was since the guy wasn't exactly a fan... at least he wasn't when they met. Dean smiled at the idea of Cas becoming a fan because of him.

"I've seen that look before," Benny said. Dean's head spun toward his friend's voice. "That's the look you wear when you've seen something you want. Who's the lucky one tonight?"

"It's not like that... I mean... it's nobody. I have Mac, for crying out loud." Benny's eyebrow lifted and Dean knew his voice was pitched higher than usual. 

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Benny quoted and Dean huffed out his irritation.

"I'm going home alone, man. Seriously..."

"Whatever you say, brother." Benny held up his beer bottle, winked, and walked away. Dean squared his shoulders and pushed his way through the crowd to Cas. He was stopped several times by well-wishers, but he kept the conversations brief. He stepped up beside Cas and held out the mug. 

"Coffee for the designated driver. Tennessee whiskey for the old pitcher," he said with a clink of the rims.

"You're hardly old, Dean," Cas said dryly, his eyes twinkling. Hearing his name said with that voice did things to him... which is probably why the next words tumbled out of Dean's mouth before he could stop them.

"Want to go stand on the field?"

"What?" Cas tilted his head in confusion. It made him look like an adorable puppy.  _Adorable? What the fuck?_

"The playing field... you know, the diamond. I'll even let you stand on the pitcher's mound... show you what it feels like." 

Confusion turned into curiosity and Cas nodded. "Yes, that would be interesting." Okay, so maybe he wasn't showing the same level of enthusiasm as the others... but then again, Cas wasn't like anyone else. Dean took the mug from Cas' hand and set both drinks on a nearby table, then put his hand on the small of Cas' back and guided him out the door. The gesture was intimate and surprised Dean by how naturally it came to him. It wouldn't be a big deal if the other person was just a hook-up, but knowing the history the two men had so far made it seem like a  _very_ big deal to Dean... especially since Cas just went with it. 

The stadium lights were already off, but the ones on the field remained on. Dean closed his eyes and inhaled. All the lingering scents from the game were still there and without warning, his elation from winning was replaced by an overwhelming sense of loss. He would never stand here again... not as the pitcher for the Demons anyway. "Do you regret your decision to retire?"  _Was the guy a mind-reader or something?_

Dean shrugged. "No, it's not that. I'm just feeling... " He couldn't find the right word and he ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. Cas seemed to understand and jumped in to rescue Dean from his awkwardness. 

 "Nostalgic?" Dean nodded and Cas did the same. "That's understandable. A large part of your life has revolved around baseball. Now, you're moving on to something new... facing the unknown. I'd be concerned if you were nothing but sunshine and rainbows," he smirked.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, I guess you make a good point." His laughter died as he looked out at the empty stands. 

"Now that it's over, what do you want to do next?" They'd been walking slowly toward the pitcher's mound and upon reaching it, Dean froze at Cas' question. He expected to be asked what was next, but he didn't expect to be asked what he wanted. That was the part he was hung up on. So much of his life had been chosen for him or simply happened due to circumstances. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone asked him what he  _wanted_. He wasn't sure how to answer, so he went with the same thing he told the press.

"I plan on spending as much time as I can with Mac. I want to help get her back on her feet and hopefully, back on the road to the Olympics." He shrugged again, hearing the lack of inspiration in his own voice. "After that, who knows? I could coach... or do the whole sports commentator thing."

"Well... whatever you decide to do, I'm sure you'll be great at it," Cas said matter-of-factly. Dean turned to him. 

"You seem to have a lot of faith in someone you hated a short time ago." Dean was careful to keep the edge out of his voice. Cas looked down at the reddish dirt of the mound and then back up at Dean, his eyes sincere. 

"I was an asshole," Cas replied. Dean raised an eyebrow at hearing the good doctor swear so easily. 

"Nah, I'm sure you had your reasons. We all build up walls and say things we don't mean," Dean reassured, his eyes still on Cas' unwavering gaze. He took a step closer. He could smell Cas' aftershave... something earthy with a hint of citrus. "An asshole doesn't care how other people feel. You are  _not_ an asshole, Cas." 

Suddenly, Dean was acutely aware of how close they were standing... those full, pink lips  _so inviting_. Before he could overthink it, Dean leaned in and kissed him. It was soft and sent a thrill through his veins. Then he heard Cas' intake of air and pulled away.  _What the hell was he doing_?

" _Dean_..." It was more of a breath than his name. Dean had fucked up... Cas said he wanted to be friends.  _Friends_ didn't kiss each other.

"Shit... I'm sorry, Cas. That shouldn't have happened." He took several steps back and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Cas' expression was unreadable. "We should get back in... Mac will be wondering what happened to me." He began walking toward the tunnel at a rapid pace. "Gotta shmooze the fans, right?" He threw over his shoulder in a forced nonchalant tone. 

"Dean... wait." But Dean didn't wait. He couldn't face Cas... not now. 

Castiel watched Dean dash away and touched his lips with his fingertips.  _Dean kissed him._  "Dean... wait." As he stood there, the field lights began to go out and he rushed to catch up. When he got to the Demons' Lair, he saw Dean across the room with Mac and Charlie. The man obviously regretted his actions. All at once, Castiel felt very tired and sought out his brother. He discreetly tugged Gabriel's sleeve. "I need to go."

Gabriel paused his conversation with Sam and two other men. "Cassie, stop being such a..." He stopped when he saw Castiel's expression and turned back to Sam. "It's time for us to head out. We have a long drive back to Dallas... I'll see you around, Sam." Sam nodded, his expression filled with concern. As Castiel walked away, he heard Sam ask, "Is he okay?" 

Not waiting for Gabriel's reply, Castiel pushed open the door. He knew he should say goodbye to Mackenzie and thank her again, but that meant being near Dean... and he wasn't ready for that. 

In the car, Gabriel was quiet until they got onto I-35 heading north. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened," Castiel said, hands tight on the wheel. "I was just ready to go home."

"Uh-huh... and I know a Nigerian prince who's recently come into an inheritance."

"Gabriel...  _don't_." The car was uncomfortably quiet for the next hour. Gabriel didn't even turn on the radio. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Castiel blurted, "Dean Winchester kissed me."

"And...?"

"And... he regretted it." Castiel kept his eyes on the road. 

"Jeez... I know it's been a while for you, but I didn't take you for a bad kisser." Castiel's intimidating glower was enough to shut down Gabriel's attempt at humor. A few miles went by before Gabriel spoke again. "Did he  _say_ he regretted it?"

"He said it shouldn't have happened." He'd gone over the whole thing a hundred times since leaving the stadium. 

"But he kissed you?"

"Yes." Castiel felt his patience wearing thin. He had no idea why Gabriel kept making him relive his humiliation. 

"Did you kiss him back?" Castiel took his eyes off the road long enough to glare at his brother. 

"This is pointless. It's clear he doesn't—"

" _Did you kiss him back_?" Gabriel's change in tone got his attention.

"I... I don't know.... it happened so fast." Did he respond to the kiss at all? His stomach sank when he realized that his only response had been gasping in shock. Truthfully, he was ecstatic about it, but he was too stunned by the fact that Dean Winchester was kissing him to react properly. 

"Well, I gotta tell you...  if I kissed someone and they didn't kiss me back, I'd assume I made a horrible mistake. But that's just me..."

Castiel stared out the windshield in silence. Dean had been the one to lean in... to take a chance and kiss someone who had already hurt him once before.  _Fuck._  "I did it again..."

"What's that, Britney?" His brother's sarcasm wasn't surprising, but it did give Castiel the urge to smack him. He didn't actually do it, but the temptation was there just the same. It must have shown on his face because Gabriel decided to dig in and become even more obnoxious. "Okay, so oops you did it again. Now what are you gonna do? Because I'm guessing you putting on a school girl outfit and dancing in pigtails is out..." 

"Shut the fuck up, Gabriel." Castiel resolutely ignored his brother humming the wretched song and pulled out his phone, unwilling to let another second go by without trying to fix this. He had Dean's personal cell number stored... for emergencies, of course. This wasn't exactly a medical emergency, but it was urgent. He put his hands-free earpiece in and dialed the number. Dean answered on the third ring and the sounds of music and talking filled the background. 

"Hello?" Dean's greeting sounded wary.

"I should have kissed you back." There. He said it. Gabriel hummed louder and started doing the dance moves... well, as much as he could from a seated position. Castiel gritted his teeth and continued to ignore him. 

"Cas... uh, hold on." Castiel focused on driving and refused to look at his brother. The noise from the party ceased and Dean's voice was clear. "Can you repeat that?"

"I said I should have kissed you back," Castiel repeated, more strongly this time. He heard Dean's sigh on the other end.

"No, I should have asked first. It's okay if you didn't want to..."

"I wanted to," Castiel interrupted.

Dean's soft laugh told Castiel that he was okay... that  _they_ were okay. "Yeah?"

"Yes." 

"Good to know, Doc." He could tell by the sound of Dean's voice that he was smiling and Castiel couldn't help smiling in turn.

"Yes, well... I should let you get back to your party."

"Right... hey, um... can you send me a text when you get home? I just...uh... need to know you got there alright." He was confused why Dean needed to know when he got home safely... until he remembered what happened to the man's ex-wife and daughter. Of  _course_ he wanted to make sure everyone was safe. It didn't  _mean_ anything... did it? 

"I will. Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight, Cas." Castiel pressed the end button and sighed at the soft way Dean said the words. It felt... special. As soon as he removed his ear piece, Gabriel started impersonating Britney Spears at full volume. Without looking, Castiel reached out and smacked his brother on the back of the head. Instead of the indignant shout he was expecting, Gabriel burst out laughing. 

"Oh, my sweet little brother... you've got it bad."

Castiel did his best to look angry, but he couldn't seem to wipe the smile off his face. Despite his good mood, there was only so much of his brother's teasing he could take and he increased his speed to get home faster. Pulling into his brother's driveway was a tremendous relief. "I'll come by in the morning to pick you up," he suggested, since Gabriel left his car parked at Castiel's house. Even after three hours in the car, Gabriel still smelled like a brewery and there was no way Castiel would let him behind the wheel.

When Gabriel was safely inside, Castiel backed out and drove the short distance to his own home. He took the time to undress and fall into bed before texting Dean.

**Text to Dean/1:56AM – Hello, Dean. I made it home safely.**

**Text from Dean/1:57AM – Great. Glad you're safe and sound. I'm home too. Just got Mac tucked in.**

Castiel smiled at his phone. Dean was such a good father. He could have easily had Charlie take Mackenzie home so he could stay out late, but he didn't. He wanted to be there to tuck his child in for the night. It warmed Castiel's heart and only increased his level of respect for the man.

**Text to Dean/1:58AM – Congratulations again on your win tonight. Sleep well, Dean.**

**Text from Dean/1:59AM – You too, Cas... and thanks.**

He plugged in his phone and set it on the nightstand, then turned the lamp off and settled back on his pillow. He realized he was still smiling and chuckled softly.  _Dean Winchester kissed him_.

It was just a light kiss and he'd had better ones in his lifetime, but this one was different. It was Dean... ridiculously handsome, incredibly thoughtful, unattainable  _Dean_. His attraction to the man had been instantaneous and he thought it was only physical, given the fact that he would never actually date the athlete. His past relationship with Bart caused him to treat Dean unfairly and left Castiel feeling so shaken, he had to rectify it with an apology. Dean wasn't exactly a stranger, but it was unusual for Castiel to have such visceral reactions where the man was concerned. Now that it seemed they might be moving forward into something beyond friendship, all he could think about was that he was  _happy_. Maybe a little nervous, too... he was still Mackenzie's doctor and some would consider it improper to pursue anything more. Generally, Castiel preferred to avoid complications and had always been proud of his ethics. Perhaps he should get Meg's opinion. He let out a frustrated groan and punched his pillow.  _Enough._  For now, he cleared his mind of all but one thought...  _Dean kissed him_.

How would it feel if they really kissed? Hot and wet... soft lips... opening to languid tongues... sliding against hard teeth... Would Dean like it soft and gentle or hard and rough? Castiel thought he probably liked it both ways. His hand drifted over his bare stomach and caressed the ridges of his abs. He felt the initial rush as his cock hardened. His fingertips moved further down, combing through his thick pubic hair. He cupped his balls and breathed in deeply as he gave them a gentle squeeze and then tugged at his sac. The moan escaped his lips and he swallowed. 

It was late and he was tired, but he didn't want this to be a quick release. He wanted to play the fantasy out while the fleeting memory of Dean's lips was still fresh in his mind. He rolled to his side and opened the nightstand drawer. Fumbling in the dark, he found what he needed and laid both items on the bed next to his thigh. Settling back, he let his mind roam.

_The locker room was empty except for Dean. Castiel leaned against the door and let his eyes take in the gorgeous man. He was clad only in a white jockstrap. His ass was firm and round... Castiel wanted to touch it... to taste it. Dean turned to look at him. His green eyes, usually so vivid, were dark with lust. He began walking toward Castiel, his steps slow and purposeful. Dean's cock was hard and he could see the head, wet with arousal, pushing against the tightness of the small garment. Castiel closed his eyes and let his other senses take over... the sound of their combined breath... the scent of musk and sex._

Castiel's fist was wrapped tightly around his shaft, now slick with lube... the sound obscene in the darkness of his room. "Dean," he whispered.

 _Dean's eyes bored into his. Without a word, he knelt on the floor, unfastened Castiel's jeans, and pulled them down to rest on his thighs. He held his breath as Dean leaned forward and mouthed his cock through the thin boxer briefs, the tip of his erection visible just above the elastic. His beautiful lips dragged up the length and licked the head when he reached the top. The slight touch of his hot tongue made Castiel release a deep, throaty moan as he buried his hand in Dean's hair. He ran his hands up Castiel’s thighs and kept going until he tugged down the only barrier between him and Castiel's aching cock. It sprang free, jutting out proudly, the slit wet with his arousal._

Reaching to his side, he grabbed the small, round vibrator. He pressed the switch and the quiet hum calmed his pounding heart. _Slow down_... he was in no rush. His fist relaxed, but continued its rhythm. He tucked the egg-shaped toy under his balls and pressed into the sensitive skin. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying out. The sensation against his prostate was almost too much. It had been too long since he'd been fucked and he longed for the feeling of someone moving inside him. 

 _His cock slipped in and out of Dean's beautiful lips. His strong hands were holding Castiel's ass, spreading his cheeks. The ache in his cock grew with his desire to be fucked._

Castiel was close... his hips were pumping up and down, his cock sliding in and out as he fucked into his fist. Sweat beaded on his forehead. 

 _He was glong to come in Dean's mouth. "Please... Dean..." His voice was desperate. Dean took him deep into this throat and Castiel's muscles tensed as his orgasm washed over him._

He shuttered and gasped as hot cum coated his hand and stomach. His breathing was loud in the quiet stillness of the night. His chest rose and fell as he tried to suck in more air. He let the vibrating bullet fall between his thighs and the press of it against his hole made his back arch off the bed. He held his cock in his hand until it softened. He wanted it to last longer... to finish the fantasy... to imagine Dean's cock inside of him. 

It took him a few minutes to force himself to get out of bed and clean himself. He looked at his reflection under the glaring lights of his bathroom. After what he just did, it was abundantly clear that he wanted Dean. This wasn't a passing phase or a simple infatuation. It might have started that way, but he knew now that this was more than attraction. Everything he'd come to know about Dean only increased his desire to have  _more_. For the first time in years, Castiel found himself wanting to open his heart to someone else... to have a real relationship. And he wanted it with Dean. 

From the corner of his eye, Dean watched Cas return to the party. He purposefully stayed by Mac, knowing the doctor wouldn't say anything awkward. As the party went on around him, he replayed the moment over and over again in his mind. He went with his gut and look what it got him. Cas just stood there, stiff as a board and unresponsive. What an epic fucking fail. He downed another shot with Benny and laughed at his teammates' jokes when he was supposed to... but his mind was back on the pitcher's mound. 

He watched Cas leave and felt a mixture of relief and regret. Sam had been up Cas' brother's ass all night and decided it was time for him to leave as well. "You jumping on the bisexual bandwagon with me, Sammy?" He heard the bitterness in his own voice, the alcohol and his insecurities clawing at his insides. Sam looked hurt and disappointed. 

"I was just having fun with a great guy, Dean. What's your problem?" 

"Nothing... absolutely nothing. I went out with a bang and I'm fuckin' drunk... why would I have a problem with that?" He tipped his glass up and gulped down the burning liquid. Was it whiskey? Tequila? He'd lost track. 

Sam sighed, his look of resignation saying it all. "I'm going to tell Mac goodbye and head home. When you're done being an ass, call me." Before Dean could retort, Sam was across the room with Mac. He watched his daughter hug her giant of an uncle and then Sam was gone. Everyone always left him... his mom, his father, Anna, Cas... Sam would leave eventually, too. Dean wished he could be the type of person that didn't need anybody, but he wasn't and never would be. He didn't just want his family around... he  _needed_ them. 

He turned away. Mac was being doted on by a few of the team wives, so he decided to return to the matter at hand. He leaned his elbows on the bar and pushed his empty glass toward the bartender. "Another."

His phone rang and he looked at the screen. The number was unfamiliar, but he recognized the Dallas area code. "Hello?" 

"I should have kissed you back." Dean frowned. Did he hear that right? He needed to get away from the noisy crowd.  

"Cas... uh, hold on." He elbowed his way out of the room and let the double doors shut behind him. He leaned against the wall, the silence a calming presence around him. "Can you repeat that?"

"I said I should have kissed you back," Cas repeated, his voice clearer now. Dean could feel his heart pounding. This was not what he expected. Did Cas regret not kissing him out of some sense of obligation? Dean didn't want that... if anything, he should apologize for launching himself at the guy without any warning.

"No, I should have asked first. It's okay if you didn't want to..."

"I wanted to."  _He wanted to._ Dean laughed softly. All he wanted was to get things back to the friendship that was blossoming between them. This was more than he hoped for...  

"Yeah?" Dean felt the anxiety drain from him and despite the buzz of alcohol, his mind was racing. Cas wanted to kiss him. He still couldn't believe he was having this conversation.  

"Yes." Cas spoke with certainty and an unbidden smile spread across Dean's face.

"Good to know, Doc." 

"Yes, well... I should let you get back to your party."

Dean straightened as he remembered that Cas was still on the road. He definitely shouldn't be driving and talking on the phone... not at this hour of the night. His thoughts turned briefly to Anna and the accident... he couldn't lose another person he cared about. Dean didn't know exactly when he started caring for Cas, but he was long past resisting the impulse. He wanted to see where this went... if they could be more than friends. Most of all, he wanted the chance to kiss Cas again, only next time he'd do it with more finesse. But first, he had to make sure the guy got home in one piece. "Right... hey, um... can you send me a text when you get home? I just...uh... need to know you got there alright." 

"I will. Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight, Cas." He quickly saved Cas' number and went back into the Lair, his smile still in place. Mac looked up at him, her expression questioning as he came to a stop beside her. "Hey, party animal. Ready to make like a banana and split?" 

"I guess," she said softly. Mac always responded to his dad jokes, but this time she was subdued and didn't even bother to roll her eyes at him. Sensing something was wrong, Dean squatted down to her level.

"What's wrong, Mac? Are you tired?" She shrugged and didn't respond. She wasn't usually this somber, especially when she was around the team. His brow furrowed with concern and he reached out to hold her hand. "Are you in pain?" 

"Dr. Cas didn't say goodbye before he left. Charlie said he looked upset when he came back in..." Mac must have seen something in his face because she pushed his hand away and started  _glowering_ at him. "What did you do?" 

Holy shit... his daughter was not messing around. When did she get this intimidating? He had no idea how to answer her... how to explain what happened without revealing too much. He stood up and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "Mac... it's complicated." 

"Don't even try it. That's the answer grown-ups give when they don't want to answer." She crossed her arms over her chest and raised one eyebrow. "Now, are you going to give me an honest answer? Because if you don't, I'll assume I have your permission to use that response the next time you ask what  _I_ did wrong."

Dean's jaw dropped and he stood there gaping for several moments before he snapped out of it. She had him and they both knew it. Pretty soon it would be the other way around and he'd be the one asking questions. As much as he wished otherwise, his little girl would eventually start dating... and without a mother, Mac would only have him to talk to. He didn't want that to be awkward and he definitely didn't want her to feel like she had to hide things from him. So, for the sake of their relationship, Dean decided to spill the beans. 

"Fine. If you really want to know..." He paused, hoping she would change her mind. No such luck. She wasn't budging an inch. "I sort of... um... kissed Dr. Novak," he mumbled. 

"I'm sorry, what was that?" She looked curious and...  _pleased_?

"I kissed Cas," he said, reverting to the doctor's nickname. He felt his face flush with embarrassment when he realized others heard what he said. To make matters worse, Mac  _squealed_ in delight. 

"Oh my god, really? You actually did it? I knew it!" He shushed her. She was entirely too excited about this... it was just a kiss, no big deal... right? He said as much and she rolled her eyes. "Trust me, Daddy... it's a big deal. Wait, if you kissed him, why was he upset?"

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you. You’re my kid, for Pete's sake..." She stared blankly, waiting for him to answer. "He wasn't ready for it and was too shocked to... you know. Only I thought he didn't like it, so I rushed away thinking I fu... _screwed_ up."

"So... you each thought the other one didn't like it." Dean nodded. "That's messed up. Did you?"  

"Did I what?"

"Did you like it?" Mac was like a damn dog with a bone... He wiped a hand down his face. 

"Son of a...  _Yes_ , I did... not that it's any of your beeswax, by the way. And since I don't want to prolong this any more than I have to... it's all good now. He called, we talked about it, and we're both fine. Can we drop this now?"

"Yes, right after you answer one more question." Dean sighed audibly and waved a hand, gesturing for her to proceed. "Does this mean you're dating him?"

"Uh... no? I don't know, Mac. It probably means we'll kiss again. And we'll probably do it in public... a lot... especially in front of your friends." 

His goal was to mortify her... maybe gross her out a little... but that's not what happened. Mac just smiled softly and motioned for him to bend down. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "If that's the price I have to pay for you to be happy with someone, I'll do it gladly." Then with a kiss on the cheek, she pulled back and started wheeling toward the door. Dean's feelings of embarrassment had been banished and he took a minute to send a thank you to Anna for helping to raise such an amazing kid.

Charlie dropped them off at home and Dean offered her a guest room, but she declined. Something about a Ficus, which was some kind of plant or maybe a tree... Dean didn't understand why people needed to have plants inside the house. Wasn't that why they invented lawns? He got Mac settled in bed... the kid refused to let him call it  _tucking her in_. Downstairs, he took two Advil and finished off a bottle of water. He didn't get shit-faced, but recovering from a night of drinking wasn't as easy as it used to be in his twenties.

He got ready for bed and plugged his phone in to charge. He was just lying down when it beeped. 

**Text to Dean/1:56AM – Hello, Dean. I made it home safely.**

Dean smiled and leaned against the headboard as he typed his reply. 

**Text from Dean/1:57AM – Great. Glad you’re safe and sound. I'm home too. Just got Mac tucked in.**

He waited, somehow knowing Cas would reply. He wasn't disappointed.

**Text to Dean/1:58AM – Congratulations again on your win tonight. Sleep well, Dean.**

**Text from Dean/1:59M – You too, Cas... and thanks.**

Feeling lighter than usual, he pulled the comforter over his body and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Dean and Mac spent all of Sunday at their Austin house. It felt strange being _home_. The rental in Dallas didn't have the creature comforts they were accustomed to in Austin. He caught Mac gazing longingly at the pool a couple of times, but she didn't get into a funk about it. Instead, she buckled down and went through her exercises on her own, her eyes focused and determined. When she was finished, Dean kept her busy with helping him prepare meals and watching some of their favorite movies.

Throughout the entire day, Mac kept nagging him about his costume for the Halloween Bash at the children's hospital. Dean wasn't a stranger to visiting sick kids... the Demons were always ready and willing to lend their time and celebrity status to worthy causes. That part was easy... he only had to show up wearing team gear and be himself. For this, he had to get a costume. He wasn't opposed to the idea, but it required careful thought and consideration. He didn't want to just show up dressed in some random outfit. "Daddy, you need to call Gabriel. His shop has  _everything_."  

"Mac, it's only two days before Halloween. I'm sure there's not much left to choose from. Maybe I have something here I can throw together." He ran through his options. Baseball player... duh. Charlie could probably hook him up with a costume from her LARPing group. He had a set of coveralls he used when he worked on the Impala... maybe a mechanic. When he voiced his ideas to Mac, she nixed them all with the heavy disdain only a pre-teen could give. She took out her phone, dialed a number, and handed it to him. 

Gabriel answered on the first ring. "Big Mac! How's your dad today? Operation Destiel seems to be proceeding according to your diabolical plan."

"What the hell is Operation Destiel? What plan?" Dean didn't hide his annoyance one bit. Mac's eyes widened and she snatched the phone away before Dean could say anything else.

"Gabriel... hey. Dad was calling to see if you had any awesome costumes. He needs something special for the bash." Dean narrowed his eyes. There was something going on with those two. They were obviously up to something and he had to admit... he was nervous as hell about it.

Castiel stood in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection.  _Constantine_. Gabriel came over to get his car Sunday morning and refused to leave until Castiel watched at least three episodes of the show with him. Since he didn't have anything else scheduled, he just went with it. It turned out to be a pretty good show and the character was interesting. It would have been even better if Meg could have dressed up as Zed, Constantine's psychic best friend. Unfortunately, Meg was stuck at an out of town conference and had to miss the bash for the first time.  

In the spirit of authenticity, Gabriel insisted on coloring his dark hair with bold streaks of blond... thankfully, it would wash out. He hardly recognized himself. The long, tan trench coat fell to mid-calf and the navy tie was stark against the crisp, white shirt. With one last glance, he left the bathroom and sat down in the living room to wait on his brother. Within minutes, the guestroom door opened and what emerged had Castiel gaping in shock. 

Gabriel had come up with some pretty crazy costumes over the years, but this one beat them all by a mile. The man was sporting a full beard he'd been growing for the past month along with a fake cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He was wearing a comically tiny cheerleading top with a matching skirt and tube socks. To finish the look, a red satin hairbow was holding back the front strands of his very manly hair. Castiel burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Apparently, that's exactly what Gabriel was going for because he looked exceedingly pleased with himself as he bounded out the door. 

The café at the children's hospital was bustling with caterers, the carnival entertainers, and the majority of the staff from both Trickster's Trousseau and the Novak Clinic. The annual event was something all their friends and coworkers loved to support. Castiel went wherever he was needed and ended up holding the hose to fill the dunking booth. He watched in fascination as Gabriel took charge like a general commanding a garrison. He might want to punch his brother in the face on occasion, but in moments like this, Castiel was so proud of him. 

"Ah, my hostess with the mostest is here," Gabriel called out and Castiel turned toward the door. Mac, in full regalia, was being pushed across the floor in a massive iron throne by... Batman. He'd recognize those bowed legs anywhere. Charlie and Sam followed along behind, completing the oddest entourage he'd ever seen. Castiel couldn't help smiling at Sam's costume... a priest. Gabriel was going to have a field day with  _that_. Charlie was dressed in full battle armor as a warrior queen... what was it Mac said... the Queen of Moons? He had no idea who that was, but Charlie was pulling it off nicely. His eyes kept returning to Dean. He was magnificent. 

He watched Dean survey the room and the moment he spotted Castiel, he grinned. He bent to whisper something in Mac's ear and she smiled up at him and then Castiel. He tilted his head, perplexed. Dean took a large box from Sam, then strode across the room. Every head seemed to turn and stare as he embodied the persona of a superhero with ease. "Hey, Cas. Constantine... it's a good look on you."

Castiel self-consciously reached for his hair. "I'm not sure I can pull off being a blond."

"I'm a big fan of your usual look, but I gotta say... this one's not bad." His eyes darkened slightly and he licked his lips. Castiel's eyes were drawn to the movement and his pulse raced when it sank in that Dean just said he liked the way Castiel looked. Dean narrowed his eyes, set down the box, and removed one of his gloves to gingerly touch the spikes of golden hair. "Jeez, that's a lot of product. Let me guess, Gabriel's work?" 

"Yes... I dread washing it in the shower tonight." As if he suddenly realized he was standing too close, Dean took a step back, cleared his throat, and looked around again. Castiel gestured to the box. "What's this?"

"Oh... I uh... I brought some baseballs to sign. I thought the kids might get a kick out of it. I mean... if they're into baseball..." He trailed off and put his glove back on. "You need help with anything? Mac says she's playing hostess tonight and we're her minions. Not sure what that means..."

After checking the water level in the dunk tank, Castiel followed Dean's gaze to where Mac was parked next to Gabriel. Sam and Charlie were standing nearby. "Gabriel pretty much has this down to a science, so I'm sure all the important tasks have already been delegated. The children don't arrive until five, but we usually take them around and help them play the games. I'm sure when they realize a celebrity is here, they'll be very excited."

"You guys got a celebrity to come? Who?" Dean's eyebrows rose and his gaze darted around the room quickly.

"I'm talking about you, Dean," Castiel said drily. Dean looked at him like he was insane. In a slow, patient voice, Castiel elaborated. "You are a famous baseball player... for the team that just won the World Series. The kids will love meeting one of their heroes." 

Dean shook his head. "I'm just me, Cas. And other than signing a few baseballs, I'm not really here for that... I'm here for Mac." He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his feet. "And I might be dressed up like one, but I'm no hero." His humility was heartwarming. Bart never had an ounce of it... he was always lording his status over others and taking advantage. He'd never be roped into an event such as this.

"To these kids, you are a hero, Dean. I'm sure Mackenzie would be proud to see her father making a difference in their lives." Castiel turned to find Dean blushing, a sweet, shy smile on his face. It took his breath away. Dean Winchester... famous sports star... celebrity heartthrob... blushing because of Castiel. He looked away and pretended to check the tank again, knowing he was a goner.

The next hour went by in a blur of last-minute details. Sam and Dean pitched in wherever they could, from helping the caterers unpack coolers to setting up the game booths. Mac and Charlie were put in charge of the prize station and were currently engaged in a battle involving launching stuffed unicorns at each other. Then the world turned upside down when, of all people, Gabriel told them to settle down and get back to work. The sight of the man being so stern while wearing a cheerleader costume sent everyone into hysterics, including Gabriel once he realized how ridiculous he looked.  

The small patients arrived a few at a time and Castiel shook the hand of a little boy named Kenny, a terminal cancer patient. Although Castiel wanted to make sure the boy had a good time, he didn't want him to overdo it. He was wearing a Superman costume and had his cape wrapped around himself like a blanket. "Do you like baseball, Kenny?"

Large brown eyes stared up at him and he got a small nod. "Well... you see Batman over there?" He pointed to Dean handing out juice boxes nearby and Kenny nodded again. Castiel leaned down and whispered conspiratorially in his ear. "Underneath the mask, it's really Dean Winchester."

The child gasped. "The pitcher for the Demons? No way..."

"It's true. Would you like to meet him? I have it on good authority that he brought a big box of baseballs to sign." Kenny nodded vigorously and Castiel steered the wheelchair in Dean's direction. He looked up as they neared, his keen eyes assessing the situation. He took his superhero stance, hands resting on his utility belt. 

"Superman, it's good to see you again." Kenny looked up and beamed at Castiel. 

"Dean, this is a friend of mine. He's willing to share his secret identity with you if you'll do the same." Castiel exchanged a knowing glance with Dean. 

"Hmm... I don't do this with just anybody... but okay." Dean knelt down and removed his mask, then held out his hand. "Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you...?"

"Kenny. My name's Kenny." He took Dean's hand and shook it enthusiastically, his eyes wide with wonder. Castiel watched as Dean focused every bit of his attention on the kid, his face so earnest and soft. Then he looked up at Castiel. "Doc, I'll take it from here. My friend Kenny and I are gonna hit up some games and talk baseball."

Castiel smiled, brushed his palm over Kenny's bare head, and left them, knowing the boy was in good hands.

He stopped to speak to several nurses and even a few parents. In a setting like this, he was at home. He took in the details from each child's prognosis, wishing there were angels who could heal with a single touch. As a doctor, he was used to handling his emotions when patients were suffering... but it was more difficult with children. He paused when he heard the sound of laughter and headed toward it to find his brother in the middle of it. Castiel wasn't surprised when Gabriel the Cheerleader went all in and pulled several kids together for a rousing rendition of  _Two Bits._

Sam was doubled over in laughter at Gabriel's version of a toe touch. He searched the large room and found Dean. He was surrounded by several children and quite a few adults. Sharpie in hand, he was signing baseballs and passing them out with a warm smile, Kenny at his side ready to hand him the next one. 

Gabriel's loud shout caused the room to go quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages... Please direct your attention to...  _me_." There were a few giggles and Gabriel waved his arms flamboyantly around his head before doing a parody of a cheerleader's kick. "I, The Great and Powerful Gabriel Novak will now climb into this contraption." He pointed to the dunking booth. "For every time I'm plunged into the  _icy_  depths of water, I will donate one hundred dollars to the children's wing. One hundred dollars, people."

Gabriel made a big show of climbing onto the platform. "Who's first? Come on... don't be shy." One of the male nurses stepped forward and took the three balls Sam handed him. He tossed the first one underhanded and Dean moved forward to stand with him. "Oh, no. No professionals allowed."

Dean smirked, then whispered to the nurse and took his arm to guide him in a perfectly aimed pitch. There was a clang and Gabriel hit the water, his skirt flying up as he went down. He came up sputtering and the crowd laughed. He glared at Dean, but Castiel could see the amusement in his brother's eyes.

One by one, the children took their turns and Dean coached each one of them on how to throw the ball. Seeing him with these children made Castiel realize he could easily fall in love with this man. The thought startled him. Gabriel was a great sport and continued taunting Dean, much to everyone's delight. When the last child had taken his turn, Dean turned to the crowd. "For every hundred dollars you donate tonight,  _I'll_ toss a ball. I don't miss often, so what do you say we keep Gabriel soaked all night?"

The parents and nurses cheered while the children laughed at Gabriel waving his arms and shaking his head behind Dean's back. Suddenly, wallets and checkbooks were flying open all around the room. He saw Dean send a quick glance to Gabriel and his brother dropped his feigned protest long enough to nod and wink his agreement. "Hey, since Dean Winchester is  _so_ confident in his amazing skills,  _he_ can donate a hundred bucks for every time he misses." 

Dean gave him a sly grin. "Make that a thousand for every miss," he said cockily. Castiel viewed the exchange with open-mouthed amazement. All the volunteers left their booths to circle around the scene. Charlie made sure Mackenzie had a front-row view with the other children. This was going to get interesting.

By the end of the night, Dean had raised seven thousand dollars for the hospital. Five hundred of it was from Castiel and another two hundred came from Sam. When he stepped up waving his money, Gabriel put his hand over his heart and, with a wounded look, said, "Et tu, Sammich?" The parents roared with laughter as Sam placed his money in the pile with a theatrical flourish. The largest portion was due to Dean purposefully missing a few to increase the donations. They lost count of how many times Gabriel hit the water, but his brother never stopped smiling and never stopped harassing the famous pitcher.

The event was over and the patients had all been taken back to their rooms. Castiel and the remaining volunteers were dismantling booths and cleaning up the scattered remains of a successful party. The entire time, he couldn't keep his eyes off Dean. He was at the other end of the room with Sam. They were helping the rental service employee load the dunk tank onto a forklift, the water now drained out. He looked up and caught Castiel staring and then smiled... was that a pink tinge to his cheeks? Castiel would never get tired of seeing Dean blush. It was quite becoming. 

He wished they had more time to talk, but it seemed like they were never alone. His heart sank when he remembered that Dean was leaving the following afternoon for his two-week publicity tour with the team. He tried to think of some way to spend time with Dean outside of the clinic and was so deep in thought, he jolted when Dean appeared at his side.  

"Whoa, sorry... where were you?"

"What?" Castiel asked, confused.

"Where were you just now? You were totally zoned out, man." Dean moved closer and Castiel picked up the scents of aftershave and latex from Dean's costume. 

Feeling his face heat and unable to tell Dean what he was really thinking about, Castiel simply shrugged and said, "I was thinking about what to do next. It looks like the volunteers have finished most of it."

Dean pulled his mask off and wiped the sweat off his brow. "Yeah, not much left to do... God, this costume is hot as fuck."

"I agree," Castiel said softly. 

"Smooth..." Dean grinned and leaned in to bump against Castiel's side. "You flirtin' with me, Cas?"

Castiel gave him a sideways smile. "Maybe?" Dean's loud laughter captivated him. The man put his whole body into it, throwing his head back without a care, not giving a damn who was watching. It was almost like his laugh inhabited every cell of his body and came to life all at once. 

Dean gave him another nudge with his elbow. "How about we take a walk?" He registered Castiel's look of concern and quickly added, "Mac's having the time of her life with your brother and I'm pretty sure the rest of the cleanup is covered."

"A walk would be nice," he answered, not knowing what else to say. Dean led him through the doors and down the deserted corridor. "There's a side entrance on the first floor that leads to a garden."

"Lead on, Macduff," Dean said, letting Castiel guide him to the bank of elevators. They remained silent as the elevator carried them downstairs. 

The garden was lit by small lanterns and Castiel strode across the grass to a stone bench and sat. Dean took a seat next to him, their thighs touching. "Never thought I'd be a leather kind of guy," he said, pulling at the thick material with a chuckle.

Castiel joined in and then they both grew quiet, the air suddenly thick between them. Seconds ticked by. Unable to stand it anymore, he blurted, "I meant what I said... I wanted you to kiss me."

The sideways smile made Dean look boyish and very gently, he pressed his fingertip to Castiel's chin to turn his face. He licked his lips and moved closer. The world disappeared when Dean's mouth met his own. It was just a soft press and then Dean backed off. "Is this okay?"

Instead of answering, Castiel cupped the back of Dean's head and pulled him close again. His hair was still damp from sweat, his breaths warm on Castiel's face. This time, when their lips met, the kiss wasn't chaste... it was passionate and filled with pent-up desire. Dean's mouth opened slightly and Castiel took advantage, slipping his tongue over Dean's teeth. He responded with a small sound that was almost a whimper, then wrapped his fists around the lapels of Castiel's trench coat. The kiss deepened until Castiel felt he couldn't breathe... but he didn't care. Dean groaned and pulled away, eyes searching Castiel's. "You're killing me, Cas."

He didn't wait for a response before diving back in, his lips bruising and wet. Dean dragged teeth over his lower lip and Castiel gasped. Pain and pleasure...  _God_... the pleasure. He was hard in his slacks and couldn't bring himself to look down at Dean for evidence of his arousal. "We should stop," Castiel muttered, despite wanting the exact opposite. Everything in his body was screaming for more... but this was not the time or the place for what was running through his mind.

"Yeah..." Dean's response sounded breathless and he started moving his lips along Castiel's jawline. Then he was back, taking from Castiel's lips what he was willing to give. "Fuck..." Dean exhaled and moved away completely, his hands clenched on his lap. His eyes were hooded as they traveled down Castiel's body and back up to his face. Their gaze locked. "I wish I didn't have to go tomorrow."

Castiel was snapped back to reality... where they were... their family members inside, probably wondering what happened to them... Dean leaving for two weeks. With a shaky breath, he stood and held out his hand. Dean took it and pulled himself up. With a self-conscious laugh, he turned his back and Castiel saw him adjust himself. "Can you give me a sec? I'll meet you inside..."  

"Of course," Castiel answered as he took a step back and then turned to head inside. He was presentable by the time he exited the elevator and entered the area where the bash had been. The furniture was back in place and Gabriel looked up. He grinned and said something to Mac. She laughed, as did Charlie and Sam. Why did he get the feeling he was missing something?


	9. Chapter 9

Dean stared at his reflection in the dressing room mirror. The costume fit him so well, it could have been tailored to his body. He looked good... and it didn't hurt that it was his favorite comic book character of all time. What kid didn't want to grow up to be a superhero? He winced at the price tag, but Mac wouldn't take no for an answer after she saw him in it. He grinned. It was nice knowing his daughter thought he could pull this off. So, with a swipe of his credit card, he was Batman... at least for one night.  

Since Mac's costume involved a huge addition to her wheelchair, Dean had Charlie rent a van. He refused to drive the thing, choosing instead to sit in the back with Mac while Charlie and Sam took the front. Mac was practically bouncing in her seat and it felt good to see her get excited about something again. 

They followed the colorful, handmade signs to the designated area on the fourth floor. Preparations were already underway and the place was bustling with volunteers. He took in the sight of the decorations and booths filling the room. Gabriel's voice rang out over the din and Mac waved. Knowing Cas would have arrived with his brother, Dean's eyes scanned the room until he found him. He had to do a double-take because the dark mop of hair he was looking for wasn't there... Cas was now a blond. A sexy as _fuck_ blond... Constantine. He leaned down to Mac's ear. "Don't look now, but it seems like Cas did the DC Comics thing, too. She looked anyway, then grinned. "I'm gonna go say hi."  

He took the box of baseballs from Sam and made his way across the floor. He was aware of people staring at him, but he was used to it. He couldn't go anywhere without someone recognizing him, especially in Texas. In his costume, he wasn't recognizable as the pitcher... _former_ pitcher... of the Austin Demons. Tonight... he was Batman. 

"Hey, Cas. Constantine... it's a good look on you." 

Castiel smiled slightly as he reached for his hair. "I'm not sure I can pull off being a blond." 

"I'm a big fan of your usual look, but I gotta say... this one's not bad." Damn, the man looked downright _edible_. He now understood the whole role-playing thing. He licked his suddenly dry lips and when Cas' eyes darted to his mouth, Dean felt his cock twitch in his snug leather pants. To keep from embarrassing himself, he set the box on the floor so he had something to do besides drool over the doctor. When he stood back up, the desire to touch hadn't waned. He took off the heavy glove and touched a lock of the golden hair. It was stiff and unyielding... not at all like he imagined when he thought about running his hands through the normally sexy brown mess. "Jeez, that's a lot of product. Let me guess, Gabriel's work?"  

"Yes... I dread washing it in the shower tonight." Images of Cas in the shower popped into his head and he took a quick step back. _Cool your jets, Winchester_. He cleared his throat and avoided looking directly at Cas. Then he saw Cas' hand pointing to the box. 

"What's this?" 

"Oh... I uh... I brought some baseballs to sign. I thought the kids might get a kick out of it. I mean... if they're into baseball." He put his glove back on, inwardly vowing to focus on the task at hand. This shindig was for sick kids, for Christ's sake.  

Try as he might to redirect Cas' attention, Cas persisted in calling him a hero. It made Dean uncomfortable. He never thought of himself that way... not when there were men and women out there like police officers, firefighters, or soldiers in the military. All Dean did for the benefit of humanity was throw a damn ball... that didn't make him special or brave. Despite Dean's protests, Cas just kept giving him that earnest puppy look and said, "To these kids, you are a hero, Dean. I'm sure Mackenzie would be proud to see her father making a difference in their lives." 

Dean felt heat spread over his cheeks and knew he was blushing... damn it. No matter how much he wanted to claim otherwise, he was affected by Cas' words. All he ever wanted was to make his daughter proud. The thought that she might see him as someone she can look up to was overwhelming and sent a rush of emotion through him. He looked up to find Cas gazing at him with an unreadable expression. It was heavy with _something_ , but Dean couldn't quite put his finger on it. After another few seconds of staring at each other, Dean excused himself to help with setting up.  

When the kids were ushered in and the party started, Dean was too preoccupied to keep the doctor in his sights. Then Cas brought Kenny to meet him. Seeing the boy's head devoid of hair and the deep shadows under those sweet, young eyes broke Dean's heart. As a father, he felt the pain of every parent in the room. Mac's ordeal had opened his eyes to a world he never wanted to be a part of... the world of parents whose children were sick or injured. No one should ever have to face losing a child... but here they were, playing games and having fun together in spite of everything. With that thought, Dean pushed aside his feelings and chose to treat the boy like a regular kid. They talked about sports as Dean autographed a baseball for him, making the note more personal than usual. Then he made Kenny his assistant and gave him the job of handing Dean the baseballs to sign. 

Time flew by and as they approached the end of the party, Gabriel made a big deal about going in the dunking booth. The poor nurse lobbed it like a softball and it hit the ground before it got to the target. "Looks like that dude could use a lesson or two," Sam whispered over his shoulder. Dean turned to look at his brother and saw the smirk.  

"I think you're absolutely right, Sammy," Dean said and stepped forward. Things may have gotten a little out of hand and before the night was over, Dean was pitching fastballs and Gabriel pretty much stayed in the water. He missed on purpose a few times to build up the donations and he knew Gabriel was onto him by the winks he threw Dean's way.  

The kids were finally taken back to their rooms and the cleanup began. Dean and Sam pitched in wherever they could. He saw Cas staring off into space and couldn't help going to him. He jumped when Dean got into his personal space. "Whoa, sorry... where were you?" 

"What?" 

"Where were you just now? You were totally zoned out, man." Dean stepped even closer. What was it about the man that made Dean want to get in his personal space? It was completely out of character for him. He was normally a hands-off kind of guy, unless it was family or very close friends. Even with dates or hookups, Dean never found himself wanting to take their hand or wrap an arm around their shoulders. With Cas, all bets were off and it was all he could think about whenever they were together. It was... distracting. 

"I was thinking about what to do next. It looks like the volunteers have finished most of it," Cas said. Dean didn't think he was being honest, but he wasn't going to hound the guy about it. He pulled off his mask because he was sweltering.  

"Yeah, not much left to do... God, this costume is hot as fuck." 

"I agree." Wait... did Cas just...?  

"Smooth..." Dean couldn't hide the stupid grin on his face and he bumped against Cas, the little bit of contact not nearly enough. "You flirtin' with me, Cas?" 

And there it was... that adorable smile that Dean wanted to be for him and him alone. "Maybe?"  

After laughing his ass off, Dean took a chance and invited Cas to go for a walk. He wanted some alone time with the man. Dean was leaving tomorrow for two weeks and he couldn't shake his _need_ to kiss those lips again. 

Cas took him through the maze of hospital hallways to a secluded garden. He imagined that during the day, the place was warm and peaceful. Now, small lights illuminated the paths but not the bench Cas led him to... and his stomach churned with anticipation. Dean made a weak attempt at starting a conversation, but Cas' demeanor made it clear that he didn't come out here to talk. An awkward moment passed, then Cas' next words shocked the hell out of Dean. "I meant what I said... I wanted you to kiss me." 

Did Cas even know how fuckin' gorgeous he was? Dean took the admission as his cue and, with a gentle lift of his chin, Dean kissed him. His hands were sweating and his pulse was rapid... like it was his first time or something. Kissing Rhonda Hurley had been intimidating, but Dean didn't remember it feeling like _this_. Before things got too heated, he paused. "Is this okay?" 

Cas' only response was grabbing Dean and kissing him like his life depended on it... and the man could _kiss_. With each touch of lips, Dean felt like Cas was searing himself into his soul. He wanted more... _so much more_. They explored each other, tongues licking and tasting, hands caressing and grabbing. It was better than he imagined and _still_ not nearly enough. Dean had never been this turned on before... never felt this kind of connection. The amount of desire coursing through him... he never wanted it to end. With a groan of frustration, Dean backed off. If they didn't stop now, they might be arrested for indecent exposure... because he wanted nothing more than to get Cas naked. "You're killing me, Cas..." 

Fuck it. He didn't care if his picture ended up on the eleven o'clock news. He needed Cas. Dean fisted that damned trench coat and hauled him in for a bruising kiss, taking what he wanted and dragging his teeth over Cas' full bottom lip. Cas gasped and the sound went straight to Dean's cock. His hands moved under the trench coat and he was just about to pull Cas' shirt out of his pants...  

"We should stop," Cas said in a strained voice. 

Reluctantly, Dean slid his hands up to Cas' waist. "Yeah..." Dean replied, his voice hoarse with need. Cas' jawline was right there... he couldn't stop himself from tasting him once more, the stubble rough against his lips. Then they were kissing again and Dean had to use every ounce of willpower to stop. He didn't want to push it if Cas didn't want to do this here. "Fuck..."  

Dean scooted away and sat facing forward, his fists clenched against his thighs in restraint. By the sound of his labored breathing, Cas wasn't any better. "I wish I didn't have to go tomorrow." Dean was surprised to find that he truly meant it. He really didn't want to leave... not with this new _thing_ developing between them. 

Cas stood and held out his hand. Dean didn't hesitate in taking it. He pulled himself to his feet, then reluctantly let go as a small laugh escaped. He turned around and reached down to rearrange his hard-on. "Can you give me a sec? I'll meet you inside..."   

"Of course." He heard footsteps on the path and the sound of a door opening and closing. He was alone. Closing his eyes, he breathed in and out, once... twice... three times. What the hell was he doing? Cas wasn't just some quick and easy lay. If Dean was being honest with himself, he was tired of chasing tail like some frat boy. He wanted more than that now... someone to share his life with... someone to love him for who he was and love Mac just as much. He didn't know if Cas was that person... but Dean was starting to think he could be. 

He stared out the window as Charlie drove through the busy streets of Dallas. Looking back on his life, Dean saw that he had never truly been in love. He had loved Anna, but they were young and stupid when they got married, neither of them knowing what the fuck they were doing. Dean had never once experienced anything close to what he felt when he was around Cas. The realization was jarring and shook him to his core. He was pushing forty now and was only just beginning to learn what he wanted... and what he didn't want. He no longer wanted to wake up alone, and he could easily imagine waking up next to the doctor with the dark hair and blue eyes he couldn't seem to get out of his head.  

Charlie dropped Sam off at his hotel, since the couch at the rental house wasn't big enough for his tall frame, then she drove them home. The car was quiet and it was starting to feel heavy. Mac's silence was understandable... the kid was exhausted and kept nodding off. Charlie was another story... she was never silent unless there was a reason. Dean tried not to fidget at her sideways glances, fully expecting her to pounce on him the second Mac was in bed. 

True to form, she cornered him in the kitchen when he finished tucking Mac in for the night. Arms crossed, she leaned against the counter and raised an eyebrow expectantly. "So... you disappeared with Dr. Novak for quite a while." It wasn't a question, so Dean didn't bother answering. He shrugged dismissively and finished pouring himself a glass of juice, hoping she would take the hint but knowing she wouldn't. "I've never seen you like this, boss." 

He picked up the glass, then put it back down before he took a drink. He turned to meet her eyes. "It's never been like this, Charlie." Her eyes widened slightly in shock, but she refrained from speaking and waited patiently for him to continue. Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know... It's like I can't breathe right when I'm around him. I feel like I'm under some goddamn spell or something. When he's around, I can't think straight." She snorted at the obvious joke and Dean gave her a bitch face in return. "Real mature, Charlie. Help me out here..." 

"I'm not sure what I can do... you like him, he likes you, so—" 

"You think he likes me?" Dean cringed when he heard himself sounding like a freaking teenage girl.  

"Der... anyone with eyes can see the love hearts floating through the air whenever he looks at you. Not that you're any better..." Charlie was grinning at him and enjoying this way too much. She must have seen something in his expression because her smile softened and she came over and pulled him into a hug. Dean tensed at first, but eventually let himself relax into it. After a minute or two, she pulled away and looked in his eyes. "Dean, I don't have any clever advice or words of wisdom... my love life isn't exactly a shining beacon of hope. But I know _you_ , and I know what's important to you. With that in mind, here's my advice... Just let yourself _be_ with him. It may crash and burn or it may be amazing. Either way, you'll be able to say you didn't run away when you were scared."  

"What? I'm not scared," Dean said indignantly. He _wasn't_.  

"Yes, you are. When it comes to love, we're all scared."  

"When did we start talking about love? I'm not in love with him," Dean mumbled, hearing the lie in his words. Charlie gave him a pitying look and ruffled his hair. 

"Oh, my young Padawan... much to learn have you." With a pat on his shoulder, she headed for bed. Dean stood rooted to the spot as a jolt of panic shot through him. He wasn't in love... for fuck's sake, he'd only known the guy a few weeks. There was no way... they hadn't even had sex yet. What he was feeling was lust... with a healthy dose of _like_. That's all. 

Even as he thought it, Dean knew it wasn't true. Maybe it wasn't love yet, but he couldn't deny that his heart was definitely leaning in that direction. Truthfully, when Cas' lips met his own on that bench, Dean knew he was done for... that he would do anything, give anything, be anything Cas wanted. He would never change who he was, but for the first time in his life, he wanted to carve out a space in his heart for someone else.  

He locked up the house for the night and went through his nightly routine before falling into bed. He tossed and turned for several hours before exhaustion took over and he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. The next morning, Dean finished his packing with Mac supervising from the foot of his bed. He kept her occupied by going over his itinerary and thankfully, she didn't mention Cas once.  

The team's first stop was Washington, D.C., and it was unanimous that they would turn down Trump's invitation to visit the White House. Instead, Crowley and the PR department had them booked to volunteer with Covenant House. The charity worked tirelessly to provide shelter, meals, and medical attention for homeless teens who have been exploited, trafficked, or even evicted by their own parents due to their sexual orientation. This year, the Demons were hosting a rally in support of the annual Covenant House Sleep Out, which raised money and increased awareness of child homelessness by having participants camp outside. The team wouldn't be around for the camping part, but the event they were hosting was expected to nearly double the revenue from the fundraiser.  

Dean boarded the plane with the rest of the team and settled in his seat. Despite over a decade of flying, it still made him nauseous. He sat next to Benny and the two of them talked nonstop all the way to the nation's capital. They boarded the private bus to the hotel and as soon as he sat down, his phone beeped with an incoming text.  

 **Text from Cas/12:47PM – I hope you had a safe flight.**  

 **Text from Dean/4:48PM – Just got on the bus to the hotel. It's cold as fuck here.**  

 **Text from Cas/4:49PM – Yes, Mac told me your first stop was DC. It is cold there. I checked the weather on my lunch break.**  

Dean stared at the text. Cas checked on the weather... in D.C.? That was... kind of sweet. He smiled. "Cas? As in Mac's doctor?" Benny was beside him, reading over his shoulder. Dean hid his phone against his chest. 

"Back off, you nosy fuck. I don't spy on your texts." 

"Since when? You knew Andrea was taking a pregnancy test the same exact second I did." Dean scowled. Benny had him there. 

"Shut up," Dean muttered. 

Twenty-four hours later, they were landing in New York. Dean, Benny, and Bobby were slated to film a segment on The Today Show. The rest of the team, dressed in winter parkas, stood outside with the crowd signing autographs. The previous night, he sent Cas a text telling him to watch the show. Dean kept his phone silenced until they on the bus heading back to the airport. He was pleased to see he had another text from Cas.  

 **Text from Cas/8:40AM – I made Ruby turn on the Today Show in the lobby. She called me when they announced you and I got to watch your interview. You looked very handsome.**  

 **Text from Dean/10:58AM – Thanks, Cas...**  

His face felt hot and he scrunched down in his seat to keep his teammates from seeing him. 

 **Text from Dean/10:59AM – Back to the airport now. Next stop, Boston.**  

 **Text from Cas/11:00AM – Question... What's your favorite color? I need to know the little things that can't be found by Googling you.**  

Dean chuckled. Cas was obviously flirting... but it wasn't the insincere type of flirting. No, Cas took it to a new level and had a way of making him feel like the guy truly cared. Dean was starting to like it... a lot. 

 **Text/11:01AM – Blue. Same shade as your eyes ;-)**  

 **Text from Cas/11:02AM - :-)**  

 _Emojis_. He was using emojis now... and Cas was playing right along. Dean didn't know what had gotten into him. After all, men didn't use _emojis_.  

 **Text from Dean/11:05AM – At airport now. I'll call you tonight.**  

 **Text from Dean/11:06AM – If that's okay...**  

Dean was walking and texting at the same time and almost ran into a parked car. His teammates gave him a hard time about it, but he just flipped them off. His eyes were glued to the screen waiting for Cas' reply. 

 **Text from Cas/11:07AM – I'm looking forward to it. Have a safe flight.**  

 

 

* * *

 

"That's good, Mackenzie. Now turn on your side and lift your leg. Try to touch my hand," Castiel instructed. Her legs and back were growing stronger each day. She did as she was told and he adjusted her on the table. "Well done. Again." 

"Dictator," she muttered, but repeated the exercise as ordered. Billie laughed from her position on the other side of the table. After ten repetitions, Castiel had her flip to her other side. Now facing him, she glared as she lifted her leg and did ten more. He guided her to lay on her back and rest for a few minutes. The second she got her breath back, she turned a shrewd eye on him. "So, what'd you and my dad get up to when you left the party last night?" 

Castiel blinked down at her, completely caught off guard. Billie looked very interested in his answer. "I don't think... um... perhaps that's something you should ask your father."  

She smirked. The little smartass actually smirked at him. "Winchester and Novak, sittin' in a tree... K.I.S.S.I.N.G," she sang and Castiel rolled his eyes. "Oh, real mature, _doctor_." 

"And singing a juvenile rhyme about me kissing your father is?" He regretted it the instant he said it. 

"Aha! You kissed him. I totally called it," she gloated. Her smug grin made him flush with embarrassment and he looked away, unable to meet Billie's curious gaze. He didn't regret the kiss... not even a little... but having his personal life mix with his professional one threw him right out of his comfort zone. Mackenzie must have noticed his discomfort because he felt a slight tugging on his sleeve and looked down to find his patient staring up at him earnestly. "Hey, it's okay, doc. More than okay, actually. I think it's great."  

Castiel took in the sight of the happiness on her face and felt himself relax. Dean's daughter had just given them her blessing. With it all being so new, he didn't even realize he'd been worried about her reaction until now. And just like her father, Mackenzie's friendly smile and open manner put him at ease again. They resumed her exercises and he made the mistake of thinking he was home-free. Then, just before she was wheeled out, Mackenzie asked, "So when are you taking him out on a proper date?"  

Castiel put a hand to his head and sighed instead of answering her question. He retreated to his office for lunch, the sound of her laughter echoing behind him. While eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at his desk, he perused the print-out Mackenzie had given him... or 'dropped' according to her. It was a copy of Dean's tour schedule, complete with appearances and flight information. The team's first stop was today in Washington, D.C. He took out his phone to wish Dean a safe trip, but paused before sending the text. Would Dean think he was weird for texting him? They hadn't really done that yet, but Castiel was fairly confident Dean would be okay with it. He shook off his fleeting doubts and hit send, then checked the weather on a whim. He hoped Dean packed warm clothing. 

Later that afternoon, Castiel had returned to his desk, this time for chart notations, when Dean replied. He smiled at Dean's casual tone... like they'd always texted each other, regardless of the fact that it was their first time. That night, he got another text telling him to watch The Today Show the following day.  

In the morning, Castiel turned the TV on before he even poured his coffee. They mentioned Dean and the team would be on later, but didn't give a specific time. He was torn. If he left, he might miss it. He set the DVR to record it just in case and raced to the clinic. Ruby was already at her desk, so he asked her to tune in and inform him when Dean _and the rest of the team_ were on. A few minutes before his first appointment, Ruby buzzed his intercom. "They're coming up after this commercial break."   

He practically ran to the lobby and stood there, oblivious to the patients and family members around him. He waited for the commercial about Pampers to finish and then there they were. Hoda and Kathie Lee sat on the left side of the set and Dean, Benny, and Bobby were on the right. Dean was wearing jeans with a black t-shirt and tan blazer. He was gorgeous. Castiel listened in fascination as the hosts asked questions about the team's win and Dean's retirement. "And your little girl? She was in a car accident just a few weeks ago... how's she doing?" 

Dean looked down at the floor and then back up. "She's doing great. We found a doctor that gets us and I'm so grateful to him for all he's done to help her. He's kind of a miracle worker. We're confident she'll be up walking and back to swimming in no time." Castiel watched until they said goodbye to the Demons and broke for another commercial. Grinning ear to ear, he went to the exam room to see his first patient of the day. Knowing he had the interview on his DVR and could watch it over and over again made him very happy. 

After the appointment was over, Castiel sent a quick text to Dean to let him know he saw the interview. He was just about to send it, but decided to add more... _You looked very handsome_. When Dean said his favorite color was the shade of Castiel's eyes, his heart leapt. It was such a simple and romantic thing to say, and his thoughts kept returning to Mackenzie's question about when he was going to take Dean on a proper date.  

Mackenzie arrived for her daily treatment and she was going on and on about seeing her dad on The Today Show. When Castiel said he watched it as well, she seemed pleased. He left her in Billie's hands for the hydrotherapy session and stopped by Meg's office on the way to his own. "Good morning, Clarence. Ruby tells me you're quite the morning talk show enthusiast." 

Castiel blushed and sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "I think I'm dating Dean Winchester." 

She raised an eyebrow. "You think? How can you not know if you're dating someone?" 

"We haven't actually discussed it, but we've kissed... and he's been texting me." 

"Ahhhh, high school is such a magical time. If you want, I can slip him a note after gym class," she said sarcastically. At his pained look, she huffed. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're finally putting yourself out there. You deserve someone special, Clarence... just don't let him hurt you. He's got a reputation as a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy." 

His phone beeped and he glanced down.  

 **Text from Dean/10:58AM – Thanks, Cas...**  

He smiled and Meg noticed. "Oh, wow... you already have the face." 

"The face?" His brow furrowed in confusion. 

"The _I'm in love_ face." He ignored her when his phone went off again. They exchanged texts for a few minutes and then Dean send an emoji. Castiel thought it was the cutest thing. 

"He's going to call me tonight," he said, looking up from his phone. "And I'm not in love. We barely know each other." He got up before she could torment him further and spent the rest of the afternoon busy with patients. Throughout the day, he felt Meg's words nagging at him. He couldn't be in love. It was far too early for that. Even so, he couldn't shake the feelings of anxiety that crept in whenever it came to mind. The hands of the clock seemed to stand still. He needed to hear Dean's voice. 

Castiel ate his dinner, cleaned up the takeout containers, and got into a pair of sweats. He watched the interview twice more and must have checked his phone a hundred times by nine o'clock. It would be an hour later in Boston. Dean must have forgotten to call. He was probably busy. Maybe he was out with his teammates... or someone else. Castiel was fine. Dean didn't owe him anything.  

He refused to check his phone after he brushed his teeth. It didn't matter...it's not like they were officially dating or anything. Sliding under the sheets, he got comfortable and settled in to read... perhaps an article from the New England Journal of Medicine... 

The loud ringtone startled him and he dropped his tablet on the bed. _Dean_... it had to be Dean. He snatched the phone and answered in a breathless voice. "Hello, Dean." 

"Did I interrupt something? You sound out of breath, man." There was a teasing lilt to his tone and Castiel chuckled. 

"No, I was just reading." 

"Must be some book," Dean said with a soft chuckle. 

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Winchester." At that, Dean's laughter filled his ears. Thinking it was probably wise to pull the conversation out of said gutter, Castiel asked, "How was your flight?" 

"Same shit, different day. It's fucking cold here, Cas. And I gotta get up at the asscrack of dawn to do a radio spot." Dean was practically whining... it was adorable. Castiel picked up his tablet and searched online for a picture of Dean. Once it was up, he felt better. It was nice to see his face while they talked. He wondered if Dean would be opposed to using FaceTime... 

"That's not all you're doing in Boston, is it? I thought there was more on the schedule." Castiel nearly choked when he realized what he said. Hopefully Dean didn't notice. 

"Yeah, there's more. The team is heading over to Boston Children's Hospital for a few hours. After that, it's off to Philly." 

"You're very good with children, Dean. It meant a lot to the kids to meet you. I think you'll always have a fan in Kenny." 

"Poor kid. Will he get better?"  

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment before answering. "No. According to his mother, he has Rhabdomyosarcoma." 

"Big word for such a little guy," Dean said softly. "Does it ever get you down?" 

He knew exactly what Dean was talking about. "It does. When I was a surgeon, it was really bad. There were many days when I'd go home depressed. I'm able to help more now, but spending time with the kids during Halloween takes its toll. It gets to Gabriel, too... and he finds it difficult to compartmentalize things. It eats at him, but that's why he does this year after year. He needs to make a difference somehow." 

"He's a good man. Annoying, but good," Dean replied with a laugh. A few seconds ticked by and neither of them spoke, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. "You keep Mac in line today?"  

"I did. Her strength is returning faster than I expected. Next week, I plan to get her into the lap pool to try swimming." 

"That's awesome, Cas. I'm not sure if I've said it yet, but I want to thank you for what you've done for her... for us." 

"Dean... you don't have to thank me. I'm still basking in your compliments from the interview," Castiel said quietly. He wanted to change the subject. "Is there anything fun planned in the schedule?"  

"Wait... hang on..." _Crap_. Castiel knew what was coming. "You said you thought there was more on my schedule. Do you have a copy of it?" Silence. "Cas...?" 

Castiel sighed. "Yes... Mackenzie 'accidentally dropped' it and told me I might as well keep it. So... I did." Dean's burst of laughter was so loud, Castiel had to pull the phone away from his ear. He waited until the man was finished. "It's not funny, Dean. It was a... practical suggestion." 

"Sure, Cas. Practical," Dean snickered. "I'm honestly touched by your diligence... maybe a little flattered."  

"Shut up, Dean." Castiel had been smiling so much today, his face was starting to hurt. Once Dean had his fill of teasing, the conversation drifted to restaurants they liked and their favorite foods. After Dean yawned a few times, Castiel said, "Dean, you need your sleep. We'll talk again." 

Another yawn and then a laugh. "Yeah, guess I need some shuteye. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Night, Cas." 

"Goodnight, Dean."  

 

* * *

 

Dean put his phone on the nightstand and let his head fall back on the unfamiliar pillow. He liked talking to Cas... the deep timbre of his voice was soothing. Dean could only imagine what it would be like in bed after... He shook off his wayward thoughts before they went any further, rolled onto his side, and settled in to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be a busy day. 

The morning radio show went off without a hitch and then it was off to the children's hospital, where he fell in love with a little girl named Emma. She was only four years old and recovering from her second heart surgery. She had a makeup kit and before Dean knew it, he was surrendering to her every whim. A local reporter snapped his picture and he knew it would be viral within the hour. He prayed Cas didn't see it. Then again, Cas didn't seem to be the social media type.   

Emma cried when Dean left and it hurt. Acting on impulse, he called Cas. "Sorry to bother you at work, Cas." 

"No bother. I was just charting." There was a slight pause. "Something's wrong." 

He raked his hand through his hair. "I... uh... it was just...." He stuttered to a stop, his voice choked by the lump in his throat. Cas didn't pressure him and the steady sound of his breathing calmed Dean. "I spent the day with a little girl... her name was Emma. She's been through two surgeries already and she's only four, Cas. Four fucking years old and she's stuck in a hospital bed instead of riding tricycles and playing outside." His voice betrayed him and a few of his teammates turned around, concern in their eyes. He waved them on.  

"Dean, we all do what we can. I heal with medicine. You heal with your kind heart and by giving your time. No one could ask more." Dean stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. Cas' opinion of him sure had changed since their first meeting.  

"I hear you, Cas... thanks." He hurried to catch up with the guys. "Look, I gotta run. I'll catch you later." 

"Goodbye, Dean." Dean pocketed his phone and caught up with Benny and Victor at the door of the bus. 

"Everything alright, brother?" Benny's hand was a grounding presence on his shoulder. 

Dean nodded at Benny. "Yeah, just making sure things were okay at home." He wasn't trying to hide anything or keep Cas a secret. He just didn't want to share his emotional outburst with anyone else. It struck him as odd that out of everyone in his life, he'd known Cas the least amount of time. Yet when he was upset, Cas was the first person he turned to. What did that mean? Were they dating now? Mac seemed to think so. Did Cas see it the same way? This was one of the reasons he didn't do relationships... it was too fucking complicated. 

They landed in Philadelphia in time for a late dinner. When a professional baseball team takes over a restaurant, it gets chaotic. The servers earned their massive tips for the raucous behavior they had to put up with. Dean could tell the season was over by the sheer amount of alcohol the guys were putting away. He knew Bobby would take care of making sure there was adequate compensation for accommodating a room full of grown men behaving like rowdy teenagers. Still, it felt good to let their hair down and relax for a change. 

The team was hungover the next morning and it probably showed in the pictures taken by the reporter for the local newspaper. Dean did a quick segment on sports radio and then they visited a community center for troubled teens. They shot some hoops, ate lunch with the kids, and posed for photographs. Victor and Bobby gave an inspirational speech about following your dreams and then they were on a bus and heading to the airport again. 

Dean basked in the temperature change. Going from snow and freezing temperatures to the moderate sunny weather in Orlando was great for his morale. The hotel was located inside Disney World and he made a mental note to come back with Mac once she was able to really enjoy it. His heart sank when he remembered that she probably wouldn't be able to ride most of the popular rides... at least not for a long time. Even so, there were plenty of other things they could do. It would still be a fun trip without the roller coasters. 

That night, they took over the lounge and discovered their shortstop could really sing. Mick took over the piano and belted out a few dirty limericks before settling in on some pop songs. Dean took a short video and sent it to Cas. Then, after Benny bribed him by picking up the bar tab, Dean took a turn at the mic and brought down the house with a filthy rendition of _Whipping Post_. He thought he saw a few phones out, but with all the lights in his face, he couldn't be sure. 

When the noise started getting to him, Dean stepped outside and sat by the pool. It was warm and he leaned back, lifting his legs to the chaise. He called Mac. "Guess what I'm doing?" 

"What?"  

"Sitting by a pool in sunny Florida. The weather is awesome, Princess. Wish you were here." 

"I wish I was there, too," she said wistfully. "Did you meet Mickey Mouse?" There were times he wondered if she was growing up too fast, but then she said things like that and Dean knew he still had his little girl. 

"Not yet. I'll find him tomorrow and get him to wave to you. We're definitely coming here this summer, kiddo. We can hit up the Haunted Mansion... I'll even hold your hand so you won't be scared." 

"Please. You're the one who'll be crying like a baby. Maybe _Cas_ can hold your hand." 

"Mac... I'm starting to think you're becoming obsessed with this thing between me and Cas." 

"Ha! You admit there's a _thing_." He rolled his eyes. "You like him. I know you do." 

"I do, but Mac... " He almost said it was complicated again, but she'd have his ass. "I don't want to rush anything. I think it's best if we take it slow for now." 

"Don't go too slow. You only have a few years left before I'm off to college. I don't want to leave you all alone... someone will have to make sure you can find your walker." 

"My walker? Smart ass... just wait until I get home, young lady. You're grounded." Her delighted giggle made him smile. They talked a few more minutes and then Dean said goodbye. He checked the time. It was ten o'clock in Texas. He took a chance that Cas would still be awake and dialed his number. 

"Hello, Dean." _God, that voice..._   

"Hey, Cas. I'm calling from the sunshine state... wastin' away and lookin' for my lost shaker of salt." Dean knew Cas probably wouldn't get the reference, but he made the joke anyway. The doctor probably listened to things like opera and new age crap. 

"Ah... well just don't come back with a brand-new tattoo," Cas replied.  

"Well look at you... a fellow Parrothead. I never would've guessed it." 

"Why is that? Just because I play new age music in the therapy rooms doesn't mean I actually like it," Cas huffed. Dean was seriously starting to think the guy really was a mind reader.  

"Point taken. What do you like?" Dean's voice was low and even he didn't miss the sultry undertones. He heard Cas inhale sharply before he coughed, then answered. 

"I like a little bit of everything, from Ragtime to Rap. My tastes are rather eclectic." Dean had never enjoyed the word eclectic more than he did when Cas said it. It was a strange thing to fixate on, but he found himself wondering what other words he wanted to hear in that voice.  

They talked about different types of music and Dean discovered that Cas wasn't lying... he really did listen to everything. He had a ridiculous amount of information and useless facts on anything from Mozart to Beyonce, most of which Dean didn't even know. But when it came to classic rock, Dean was in his element and was able to educate Cas for a change. When that subject was exhausted, they moved on to their hobbies. Strangely enough, neither of them had interests like collections or working with their hands, except for Dean's obsession with doing his own maintenance on the Impala. Cas expressed an interest in the subject and had even read several books about the history of classic cars... which then turned into a lengthy discussion of their favorite books and authors.   

The lights around the pool suddenly went out and Dean sat up. What the hell? He took the phone away from his ear and saw the time. They'd been talking for three hours. "Cas, have you checked the time lately?" 

There was a pause and then he heard Cas groan, "Fuck." Dean had to laugh and imagined Cas' face looking all grumpy. He'd bet money that it was cute as hell. They said their goodbyes and Dean went up to his room. He took a quick shower, then set his alarm and got into bed, the sheets cool on his heated skin. Staring up at the stucco ceiling, he tried to think of a time when he talked to _anyone_ for three hours. He couldn't recall that ever happening. Not to mention the fact that if it wasn't for the lights going out, they would have continued the conversation even longer. When sleep finally found him, Dean dreamed of soft pillows, blue eyes, and low voices whispering in the night.  

The next day, the team gathered in the lobby before heading off to the charity golf tournament, which was being held at the Lake Buena Vista Golf Course on the Disney grounds. In addition to the Demons, several top names in the sport were on-hand to lend their expertise. This event would benefit the families uprooted by the back-to-back hurricanes that wiped out a large portion of the state. When Houston was devastated by Hurricane Harvey, the Demons helped to raise funds and rebuild a few houses and schools. Dean enjoyed volunteer work and was looking forward to assisting the residents of Florida, even if it was just playing a round of golf for a fundraiser.  

Benny and Garth stood with him as they waited for their fourth. Dean glanced around at all the players getting ready for their turn to tee up. "Which pro did we get?"  

"Not sure... wait, let me look," Garth said, fumbling with a folded piece of paper. "Uh... Bartholomew Harrington." 

Dean couldn't have heard him correctly. "Who?" 

"Bartholomew Harrington... he won the PGA—" 

"Yeah, I know who the fuck he is," Dean growled and his teammates gaped at him.  

"There somethin' you ain't telling us, brother?" Benny was giving that look he used when he was ready to have Dean's back, no matter what the problem was. He found it comforting and took a deep breath. 

"He's Cas' ex." He quickly gave them the abridged version of Cas' past with the pro golfer. When the bastard joined them, he was met with three stony faces. The smarmy son of a bitch stuck his hand out to Dean first, and he had to remind himself to be civil.  

"Good to meet you, Dean. Bart Harrington. I'm a big fan," he said, then turned to Benny and Garth. "Of the whole team, of course. I even made it to one of the games in LA." With cameras everywhere, Dean didn't have a choice in shaking the prick's hand, but he put all the strength of his pitching arm into it. He was pleased to see Harrington wince.  

Not feeling inclined to acknowledge Harrington's words, Dean turned to Garth. "When are we up?" 

"We follow Rufus, Mick, and Jesse," Garth replied, pulling a towel from his golf bag before the caddy picked it up.  

"I've played this course quite a few times. I can give you some tips along the way," Harrington said smugly.  

"I think we'll be fine. Dean knows his way around a club," Benny countered. Dean gave his friend a sideways glance of appreciation at the veiled hint of violence. He was hoping he wouldn't choke in front of the pro. He had total confidence in his athletic prowess, but he was having a hard time getting focused with all the rage coursing through his veins. He tightened his hold on the brim of his ballcap and shoved it down on his head. It had been a long time since he was itching for a fight this badly... and he wanted nothing more than to break that perfectly-set nose. 

"I'm sure he does," Harrington responded, and Dean could have sworn there was a hint of innuendo. He stalked away and grabbed a bottle of water from the drink cart. By the time he finished it, the group in front of them had moved to the next hole and he had calmed down. It would taint the reputation of the charity event if he lost his temper. The images would be splashed all over social media in a heartbeat and Dean would never cause problems like that. He was a professional, after all.  

Harrington offered to go last so he could watch and critique each of them and Dean clenched his club tighter, the leather creaking under the strain. At this point, Garth was the only one acknowledging the man at all, and he was only doing so because his southern upbringing wouldn't allow him to be blatantly rude. Benny teed his ball first and swung his driver, sending it flying to the other end of the fairway with the ease of a power hitter. He and Dean played quite a bit during the off-season. They weren't pro material, but they could hold their own. Garth's idea of golf was the local putt-putt course. He swung and his ball veered to the left and landed in the rough. "Sorry, guys." 

"Don't sweat it, dude. This is all for fun," Dean assured him. 

"Your stance is wrong. On the next hole, I can show you how it's done," Harrington said. Benny's hand on his shoulder kept Dean from mouthing off. Jaw clenched, he set his ball on the tee and eyeballed the hole. The caddy, a good kid just trying to do his job, held out his recommended club and Dean took it with thanks. Harrington pushed the kid aside and took out a different one. "I'd use this driver," he interjected. 

"Not my first rodeo, _Bart_ ," Dean said with a sardonic smile. Dean purposefully held onto the club the caddy had given him, even if Harrington's choice was technically better. He gave a practice swing and then hit the ball, sending it straight up the middle of the fairway. It bounced twice and stopped about eight feet from the flag. 

"Very good, Dean." Bart's tone was so patronizing, it was really starting to get on Dean's nerves. How the hell was he going to make it eighteen holes without punching the guy? 

The game moved fast despite the high number of players. There seemed to be volunteers stationed at each hole to keep things moving along. It was for charity, so there was a lot of joking and ass-smacking between the Demons. The pros tried to remain... well, professional... but most of them were ultimately amused by the team's antics. All but Dean's group... they were tightlipped and Bart seemed to be the only one having a good game. Dean was three over par and not happy about it. The asshat was so fond of listening to himself, he didn't even pick up on the fact that his three teammates were barely speaking. Even Garth was getting tired of the pompous dick.  

Dean downed a beer each time the beverage cart drove by and with the hot Florida sun beating down on him, he was beginning to feel it. "Last hole. You got this," Benny whispered in his ear. Dean nodded curtly. He'd been hoping the motherfucker would trip and fall on his dumb face but so far, that hadn't happened.  

The teams gathered around the elaborate scoreboard the event planners erected on the last hole. Dean's team came in third place. Checks were presented and the schmoozing began. Dean just needed a break. "I gotta hit the head," he informed Benny before striding off. He stepped into the cool interior and glanced around, wondering which way he should go. 

"The locker rooms are through there," Harrington's voice came up behind him. Dean spun in surprise. Did the guy _follow him_? "I'll show you the way." 

"No, thanks. Last time someone held my hand to take a piss, I was three." Dean hoped the man would be put off, but Harrington just laughed. Dean headed in the direction indicated and saw the sign for the men's locker room. Without bothering to check if he'd been followed again, Dean pushed open the door and went straight for one of the urinals lining the wall. He unzipped his shorts, took his dick out, and enjoyed the moment of privacy, however brief. 

Dean tucked his cock back into his pants and flushed, then turned toward the sink to wash his hands... only to find Bartholomew fucking Harrington staring at him. "What the _fuck_?" 

"Come on, don't be like that. Everyone knows you bat for both teams." He laughed at his little joke. Dean felt nauseous. "I just wanted to see if you were up for some real fun. I'm staying at the Buena Vista..." He stepped closer. "I'd love to watch you riding my cock." Dean stood stock-still, his fists clenched so tightly he felt his fingernails digging into his flesh. This fucker was actually _hitting on him_.  

He must have read something in Dean's expression because he hurriedly added, "Hey, this would just be our little secret. You don't have to worry about it hitting the media. Personally, I prefer to keep my private life _very_ private. Get my drift?" 

"Oh, I get your fucking drift alright," Dean snarled, pulling himself to his full height, a good two inches taller than the golfer. He took a single threatening step forward and was pleased to see the other man cower against the wall in response. Dean smirked. "What's the matter, Bart? The wife not doing it for you?" 

"I... I only thought..." Bart stammered. 

"Yeah, I know what you thought. You were wrong. I've got someone back home that makes you look like the piece of shit you are." Dean relaxed his posture and walked toward the door, then turned around and looked him in the eyes. "Man, you should see my boyfriend... he's fucking gorgeous. Blue eyes, hot body, dark and sexy hair... and a doctor, too. You know the type... _don't you_?"  

Harrington's face fell into an expression of recognition and Dean could tell the man knew exactly who he was talking about. With a final smirk of satisfaction, Dean gave him a one-finger salute and sauntered out the door.  

He was almost to the bar when his phone beeped. It was a text from Cas. Dean's stomach twisted. _Shit_... he not only just trashed Cas' ex, but he used the word _boyfriend_. They hadn't come anywhere close to talking about that yet... and Dean certainly didn't have the doc's permission. He briefly considered keeping the entire situation to himself, but he didn't want to start their budding relationship with a lie. No... he had to come clean and tell him everything. He just wasn't sure how Cas would respond. Dean sighed and, without reading Cas' text, sent one of his own.  

 **Text from Dean/3:47PM – Hey, Cas... can you talk?**  

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I got hit with the flu and bronchitis, so I was out of it for a few days. We will be back on track now.

Castiel was amazed by Dean's popularity on social media. Fans adored him and couldn't seem to get enough of Dean Winchester... and these were fans of the man himself, not the sport. It made it incredibly easy to follow along with the press tour simply by checking Instagram and Twitter. From the outside perspective, Castiel might have seemed a little obsessed, but he was just organized. The schedule that Mackenzie made sure he 'found' was hanging on his refrigerator at home and a second copy was in his top desk drawer at work. He  _was not_ obsessed... not about that anyway. 

No, Castiel was only obsessing over one thing... the feeling of Dean's lips on his. It was all he could think about... that, and all the places on his body he wanted Dean to explore with that sinful mouth when he got back. In the meantime, he had taken to watching the progress of the press tour to tick off the days in a lame attempt to make the time go by faster. It wasn't working. 

According to the schedule, Dean had the golf tournament today. Castiel never played golf before, so he did an internet search to find out the typical duration of a game. Then he couldn't resist a web search to see if there were any pictures from the event. It was only midday and there were already a few pictures on several sites. Unfortunately, he only saw one of Dean and it was taken from the back. He took a moment to admire Dean's ass and those bowed legs... 

"Dude, put the phone down and focus," Gabriel huffed from the doorway to the kitchen. "I came over to talk about Thanksgiving, not watch you drool over your boyfriend."

"I wasn't... I was just reading an email... from a doctor... about..." Shit, his mind went blank. Who was he trying to kid? Gabriel had his arms crossed and his expression made it clear that he was wise to Castiel's little fabrication. He sighed and gave in. "Okay, fine... Dean is playing golf in Orlando today and I was just checking to see if any pictures have been posted."

"You are so gone..." Gabriel said, shaking his head in mock sadness. "My brother, savagely impaled by Cupid's cruel arrow. What a tragedy. Now, back to me." He pointed to the sofa and Castiel sat down, shrugging off his annoyance that Gabriel was lounging in his favorite chair. 

"Gabriel, Thanksgiving is almost three weeks away. What is there to discuss?" Despite it being a family holiday, Gabriel was the only member of the Novak clan Castiel ever spent Thanksgiving with. It was usually a simple affair and they didn't really do the whole formal dinner thing. Sometimes they spent the day relaxing and doing nothing, but more often, Gabriel took over and used it as an opportunity to either surprise Castiel or mortify him. He never knew which one to expect, so the anticipation of the unknown was kind of its own entertainment. He suspected that was exactly what his brother was going for... Gabriel would rather die than be considered predictable. Usually, he had a reason for the crazy things he did... and beneath all the pageantry, there was always a hidden message or a deeper meaning. 

One year, he took Castiel to an all-male strip club to give thanks for the 'hot man-meat' on stage. It probably wasn't a coincidence that it was the year Castiel came out... which led him to believe that this was Gabriel's strange way of showing his love and acceptance. Another Thanksgiving was spent volunteering at a homeless shelter... right after Bart left him. He suspected the message there was that no matter how bad Castiel felt, he still had more than those who were less fortunate. Then there was the time Gabriel showed up in a corset and eyeliner and roped Castiel into attending a live performance of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. He still hadn't figured out the message for that one... maybe it was that Castiel needed to learn that it was okay to let go and have fun sometimes. 

No matter how reluctant Castiel was to go along with his brother's schemes, he always ended up having a blast. But they never really made plans in advance, so he wasn't sure why Gabriel was so intent on doing so now. His face must have shown his confusion because he was met with an exasperated eyeroll.

"Gee, I wonder what could possibly be different this year..." He pretended to think while stroking his chin, then widened his eyes dramatically and snapped his fingers. "I know what it is... you have a boyfriend, a boyfriend's kid, a boyfriend's brother, and probably a boyfriend's entourage. He does have an entourage, right?"

"Dean does  _not_ have an entourage," Castiel said with an irritated huff. "I'm sure Dean and his family already have plans." The thought stung more than it should. It was ridiculous and irrational... but his mind was suddenly filled with the image of them all sitting around the table together, carving the turkey, laughing at Gabriel's dumb jokes, Mac teasing Dean and him for holding hands... it was perfect, and Castiel felt a stab of grief that it wasn't real. He had never once experienced a holiday like that... but  _god_ , he wanted it. He looked up to find Gabriel eyeing him shrewdly.

"I guess you won't really know unless you ask. He could say no, but miracles happen all the time. If the clouds part for the light of heaven to shine upon you and he accepts your invitation, I say we have it here." Gabriel paused to gauge Castiel's response, but he just stared back with a blank face. His brother continued, his patience clearly approaching its limit. It was rare for Gabe to lose his temper, but it did happen every now and then. "You love to cook. I love to eat. It's a win-win. And so far, that formal dining room of yours has only been good for collecting dust. We can start a new tradition... just nut up and invite the Winchester posse."

"If I promise to think about it, will you go away and leave me alone?" Castiel got up and pointed at the door.

Gabriel stood and dramatically placed his hand on his heart. "Why, Castiel... if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get rid of me. You have wounded me, brother... right here in this region where my heart would be, were it not pierced by your cruelty." Castiel rolled his eyes again and playfully shoved his brother toward the exit. He knew better than to fall for such heavy-handed tactics. In fact, he hardly ever saw Gabriel on Sundays. He usually spent the day with a group of his cohorts, most likely plotting world domination one ludicrous prank at a time. They once used sidewalk paint to create a rainbow flag in the parking lot of a local church known for its hatemongering and homophobic slurs. That was one prank Castiel appreciated. Knowing how the man normally spent his day off, Castiel was surprised his brother was still lingering.

"Goodbye, Gabriel," Castiel stonewalled. He got a knowing smirk and a jaunty wave in return.

His brother was halfway out the door when he turned and narrowed his eyes at Castiel. "Invite Winchester to share our turkey. Just remember... I'm not above recruiting his darling spawn for assistance." What the hell did  _that_ mean? Before he could ask, Gabriel winked and closed the door behind him.

Castiel was rooted to the spot for several seconds as his brain searched for an answer. He thought back to all the times he caught his brother and Mackenzie whispering and giggling together, thick as thieves... the little smiles they exchanged when Dean was in the room... the fact that they texted and called each other all the time. Then it hit him. Those sneaky little... 

He ran out the door, hoping to rip his brother a new asshole before he made it to his car. He was startled to find him leaning against the driver's side door, arms folded and a smug grin on his face.

"Figured it out, then?" He looked entirely too pleased with himself... especially since Castiel was livid. 

"How could you?" 

Gabriel shrugged. "It was easy, really. We just..."

"No, I didn't mean  _how_... I meant  _why_? Why would you do such a thing?" 

"Me? It was all  _her_ idea. I'm just a damn patsy," he protested.

"Oh, I'm sure the sweet little girl was the mastermind behind all of it. I bet she even twisted your arm and forced you to betray me, too." His pulse was rapid and he felt his anger rising.

"Now you hold your goddamn horses. I would  _never_ do anything to betray you and you fucking know it," Gabriel replied, every feature of his face laced with wrath. Castiel could count the number of times they had fought on one hand... but when they did, it was awful. He knew the situation was rapidly escalating and he didn't want that. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

"Gabriel... why?" Castiel heard the sadness in his own voice and watched his brother's face fall. 

"You needed the push, that's all. I hate seeing you alone and Dean is... Jesus, Cassie, he's perfect for you. Even Mac saw it." He reached out and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "I just want my baby brother to be happy."

Castiel felt his anger drain away as quickly as it had come. He couldn't stay mad at Gabriel, even if he wanted to. In all his life, no one had ever loved him more or been more loyal. He pulled his brother into a hug. "I know you do, Gabe. I'm sorry I overreacted. And... thank you." 

Gabriel squirmed out of his embrace, obviously done with the display of sentiment. "Okay, okay... Jeez, let a guy breathe." His eyes betrayed how touched he was, but Castiel let him pretend to be annoyed. He got in his car and revved the engine, then rolled down the window. "I'm out of here. Things to do, people to do... See ya later, dumbass gator." 

Taking the squealing tires as his cue, Castiel went inside and plunked down in the chair Gabriel vacated. He planned to spend a quiet afternoon reading... and hoping to hear from Dean. According to his estimate, Dean should have finished the tournament by now. He decided to send a text... nothing important, just a light-hearted hello.

 **Text from Castiel/3:44PM – Hello, Dean. I hope you had a great game.**

**Text from Dean/3:47PM – Hey, Cas... can you talk?**

He felt his stomach clench with tension as he dropped the phone in his lap. He hated that question... it  _never_ meant anything good. What did Dean want to talk about? Did he meet someone else? Was Dean done with him already? Panic started rising in him until he shook his head and reminded himself that Dean wasn't like Bart. He wouldn't hurt Castiel that way. He picked his phone up and typed his reply. Within a few seconds, his phone was ringing. 

"Dean... is everything alright?" He tried to keep his voice calm.

"Yeah, it's all good here..." Dean wasn't being truthful. He was clearly upset about something. Castiel didn't have to wait long to find out what. "No, that's a lie. I uh... did something... something you and I should probably talk about." 

Castiel's chest was tight and he couldn't speak. This was it. God, had he slept with someone else? He couldn't believe it. All this time, he'd gotten everything wrong. How could he have been so fucking stupid? 

"Cas... you there?" He heard the concern in Dean's voice and it confused him. Why would Dean care? He'd obviously decided to move on... right? "Cas, you're kind of freaking me out here..."

Castiel cleared his throat. "I'm here."

"Okay... good. Um... I'm not sure how to tell you this, but—"

"Don't bother, Dean," Castiel interrupted. He didn't want to hear Dean's next words. He couldn't. It was hard to believe that merely minutes before, he'd been fantasizing about sharing holidays with this man. "If you've met someone else—"

"What? No, Cas... dude, what the fuck? Why would you even think that?" He heard Dean inhale and exhale, then he continued. "We'll come back to that later... I just need to tell you about something that happened at the golf tournament. I sort of... ran into your ex." 

Castiel choked. He did not expect that at all and felt a rush of concern for Dean. "Oh... are you okay?" The thought of a soul as good as Dean's even being near one as tainted as Bart's made his skin crawl.

"Me? I'm fine. I mean, the guy pissed me off... Seriously, how the fuck did you manage to stay with that dick for so long? I barely made it a few hours without punching him in the damn face." Castiel chuckled, knowing exactly what Dean was talking about. "I didn't, though... just so you know." 

"Well, I wouldn't judge you if you did... just so  _you_ know." The sound of Dean's soft laughter brought warmth back into him and he relaxed into the cushions, his fear and anxiety gone. "Is that all?"

"Not exactly... there's more," Dean answered in a strained voice. Castiel sat up.

"What did he do?" Castiel was practically growling into the phone. "Did he touch you?"

"No, but he wanted to... the fucker hit on me in the bathroom, Cas. How gross is that?" Dean's light tone sounded forced. "Then I might have... said some things..."

"Spit it out, Dean..." The very thought of Bart looking at Dean that way made his blood boil. If Castiel had been there, he would have ripped the man limb from limb. The sound of Dean's voice pulled him away from the dark fantasy of Bart's demise.

"I told him you were my boyfriend and how hot and awesome I thought you were," he rushed out all at once, then fell silent. After a minute passed, Dean couldn’t take the suspense any longer. "Say something..."

Castiel was stunned and wasn't sure how to respond. He wanted to laugh at the thought of Bart's face, but he also wanted to wrap his arms around Dean and tell him everything was okay. He didn't know what to say, but he was certain about one thing. "Dean... you have to know that I have no problem whatsoever with you calling me your boyfriend." He dropped his voice and practically purred his next words. "On the contrary... I rather like the idea."

"You do? I know we haven't talked about it and I don't want to push you into anything you don't want..." Instead of dwelling on his altercation with Bart, Dean was thinking of Castiel and his feelings. It was... different. Castiel never thought of himself as lonely... he used words like  _independent_ and  _self-reliant_. It was easier to keep everyone at arm's length than to risk getting hurt again. Dean's thoughtfulness was beginning to crack the surface of the defensive walls Castiel surrounded himself with years ago. He wasn't prepared for the invasion, but it wasn't entirely unwelcome. 

"What makes you think I don't want that?"  

"So, you're okay with being my boyfriend, then?" There was a teasing note in his words and Castiel found himself smiling. 

"Do you want that, Dean?" Castiel said, his voice growing husky. 

"Uh—" Dean coughed, then tried again. "What, being boyfriends? Yeah, I do... want that... with you. Jeez, why do I feel like I'm back in high school?" He gave a soft laugh. Castiel could hear it in Dean's voice that he was flustered. It was adorable. He imagined the blush spreading over Dean's face... a dash of pink over the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks and nose. Fuck, it was still eight more days until they were together again. It felt like torture...

"You should hurry home." Castiel didn't even try to hide the desire in his voice.

"Trust me, babe, I want to..." Someone spoke in the background and then Dean growled, "Shit... I'm on a bus with the team right now, so I can't really get into...  _stuff_."

"I see," Castiel agreed. "I suppose we'll have to return to  _stuff_ later, then."

"Count on it. I can call you tonight when I get to my hotel. My flight gets to Miami around... fuck, it's gonna be pretty late and both of us have to get up early. Looks like we'll have to wait 'til tomorrow..." Dean sounded disappointed and Castiel couldn't have that. He didn't want Dean to feel guilty for sticking to his commitments, especially when he worked so hard to take care of everyone else first. Castiel felt the need to reassure Dean that he wasn't going to get upset about it, so he decided to go with his instincts.    

"Dean?" 

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me when you get back? I'd love to spend more time with you... and I have it on good authority that I should ask you on a  _proper_ date." Castiel smiled as he thought about how transparent Mackenzie had been with her machinations.

"Oh, really? Whose authority is that?" 

"Your daughter," he deadpanned. Dean made a noise of disbelief, then laughed. "She has very definite opinions on the matter."

"Oh my god... I'm so sorry. I should have known she'd pull something like this. She's been relentless on my end, too." 

"Well, in the interest of full disclosure... Gabriel's right there with her. Apparently, they've combined their efforts to set us up." Castiel wasn't nearly as irritated as he sounded. Part of him wanted to thank them, but he had a sneaking suspicion that would only be feeding the proverbial beast. 

"Can't complain too much about that, I guess. After all, I got a hot date out of it," Dean said flirtatiously. 

"Good point, but we won't tell them that." They both laughed and then grew quiet for a minute before Dean spoke again.

"Cas, I need you to know... While we see where this goes, I won't be dating anyone else. Just you." Dean paused. "Is that okay?"

"Yes, Dean. It's more than okay." Dean's relieved sigh spoke volumes and Castiel felt the need to offer his own reassurance. "I don't want to be with anyone else either." 

The momentary tension was gone and they spent another thirty minutes talking before Dean had to get off the phone. His next stop was Miami, and Dean promised to call as soon as he had the time. Castiel believed him and was surprised to discover that he no longer had any doubts about Dean. There was still a lot more to learn about each other, but the worry and anxiety that had been clinging to him was no longer there. For the first time in his life, Castiel felt like his heart was open enough to let someone in. 

Dean was on his own and eager to join his teammates. They left Orlando to head for Chicago yesterday, but Dean had to detour to Miami for the ESPN interview. He took the chair next to Buster Olney, the channel's famed baseball guru, and waited while the PA clipped a mic on his collar. Dean admired the guy and had even read a couple of his books. Introductions made, the two men engaged in some small talk before the host launched into the real questions. 

"So, Dean... With such an amazing career behind you, I think all the fans want to know... what comes next?"

"I've had a few interesting offers, but I haven't made any decisions yet. Honestly, I just want to relax for a few months and spend some quality time with my family. But who knows? I might wind up coaching high school baseball, maybe even little league." 

Buster chuckled good-naturedly. "As crazy as that sounds for someone with your talent, I can actually picture you doing that."

"Hey, stranger things have happened, right?" In all honesty, Dean didn't know what he was going to do. Bobby offered Dean the pitching coach job since the team's current pitching coach was moving to LA to take a job with the Angels. They probably poached him when they saw how badly Dean trounced them during the Series. It was understandable. As much as Dean didn't want to leave Bobby in the lurch, he just couldn’t take a job that required him to keep traveling. That wouldn't be fair to Mac at all. 

After the interview, Dean and Buster spent another thirty minutes just shootin' the shit. He would have stayed longer, but he had a plane to catch. When his flight landed at O'Hare, Dean rushed through the airport, ignoring a few fans calling out to him. He needed to get to the hotel to rendezvous with his team. He had another interview with a local station and then they would all meet to volunteer with Dreams for Kids, a non-profit organization that mentored the city's youth. 

The team was participating in an awesome event called Extreme Recess, a program that encourages children with disabilities to participate in sports without limitations. The Demons split into two groups, one for each team of kids, and helped them play the game like any other kid at recess. It was amazing and several of the guys were so moved by it, Dean found them swiping hastily at their eyes. He had to admit, even with all the exhausting travel, this was his favorite stop, hands down.  

After dinner, Dean called Mac on the way back to the hotel. They spent a few minutes catching up, then he decided it was time to confront her about her scheming with Gabriel. He led into it by asking about her appointment with Cas and she talked about him letting her try a few laps in the pool. He made a mental note to ask Cas about it. Their conversations hadn't really focused on Mac lately... he tried not to feel too guilty about that. "And Daddy, I walked across the room today."

"What? Oh, wow..." He took a deep breath. It was hard to know such a big thing happened while he was gone and he was sorry he missed it. "That's awesome, Princess... I'm so proud of you. Was Cas... uh... Dr. Novak there?"

"Of course. He wouldn't let me try that without him. You should have seen it, Daddy... he was so excited and happy for me. I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that before. Oh, before I forget, he told me we could add more strength training to my appointments..." Dean listened to her go on and on about how great  _Dr. Cas_  was, and his heart felt so full. He already knew Cas was incredible, but hearing the awe in Mac's voice told him she felt the same way about the doctor. Well, not  _exactly_ the same way. "So... Dr. Cas said he talked to you a few times..." 

She deliberately let the sentence hang in the air. Dean knew Mac wanted him to spill the beans, but he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. With all the exciting news she shared, he almost forgot the real reason for his call.

"Yeah, speaking of Dr. Novak... he filled me in on your little plot with Gabriel."

"What plot?" He almost laughed at her poorly-feigned innocence.

"Mackenzie Elizabeth Winchester," he said in his most serious Dad Voice. "The jig's up, kiddo."

"But, Daddy," she pleaded.

"No, Mac. You can't just go around messing with other people's lives. If something is meant to be..." Damn it, he sounded like a freaking Hallmark card. "I'm just saying if Cas and I want to try dating, you need to stay out of it and let us figure it out for ourselves."

She was quiet and Dean closed his eyes, wishing that he could go back a few years when making monkey sounds and fart noises was a complicated enough conversation for his daughter. Mac might be nearing thirteen, but she still believed in fairy tale romances and happy endings. He didn't want to be the one to tell her they didn't exist... the world would take care of that soon enough. For now, he'd let her have the fantasy. "Look, Mac... If it makes you feel better, Cas and I have decided that we both want to see where this goes." She gave an ear-piercing squeal and he was quick to add, "No promises. And please... stop with the matchmaking."

"Okay, Dad. No more Yenta." It felt like she was just telling him what he wanted to hear.

"Yenta... Now there's a blast from the past. I didn't think you even remembered that," Dean said softly.

"Seriously? Dad, we must have watched that movie a hundred times when I was a kid."  _You're still a kid, baby girl_. "Hey, do you remember that time we drove Uncle Sam crazy singing _If I Were a Rich Man_ for an entire day?"   

Dean chuckled and there was a beat of silence before they simultaneously started in with the 'dibby-dibby-dum' part. They ended up firing quotes from the film back and forth and laughing themselves silly until they said their goodbyes. He sat with the phone in his hand, just smiling to himself for a minute while he recalled the happy memories. He may not have always been around for Mac, but he was a good father. He knew that now. 

Wednesday had been set aside for travel and resting up before diving into the last leg of the tour. The team landed in Phoenix just as the sun was setting and Dean was nursing a headache that had been brewing all afternoon. It started just behind his eyes and by the time he was in his room, he was feeling a familiar scratchiness in the back of his throat. Between constantly breathing in the recycled air on the planes and the lack of sleep, he wasn't surprised that he was coming down with something. Instead of meeting the guys in the restaurant downstairs, he blew them off and ordered room service. The bowl of soup and grilled cheese tasted fine, but he couldn't stand swallowing more than a few bites. 

Dean searched his travel bags for anything that could help him feel better, but all he came up with was a cough drop that didn't appear to be from this decade and a bottle of the OTC pain relievers he always carried on the road. He took two caplets, wincing as he downed them with a glass of water. It wasn't nearly enough, but it would have to do.

He leaned back on his pillows, feeling miserable and too exhausted to sleep. Flipping through the channels on the TV only worsened his headache, so he switched it off and called his favorite doctor for a distraction. "Hey, Cas. I'm in Phoenix. Yay..."

"You sound congested," came Cas' response.  

"It's customary to say hello when you answer the phone. Let's try this again... Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean," Cas said dryly. "What are your symptoms? Cough... sore throat? Are you taking anything?" Cas barking questions at him made Dean grin, despite the fact that he felt like hammered crap. 

"I took two Aleve. It was either that or the Halls cough drop from the Bush Administration." 

"Dean, the stagnant air from all this flying is not good for your immune system. I'm sure your hotel has a gift shop that sells nasal decongestants and cough suppressants." 

"I'll hit it up in the morning, man. Right now, I just want to go to sleep." 

"What's the name of your hotel?"

"Huh? Why?"

"Don't worry about it. Are you drinking plenty of fluids?" Dean had a sneaking suspicion Cas wasn't just going to leave it at simply ordering him to drink some juice. Cas' concern was really sweet, but Dean was used to dealing with being sick on the road. All he needed was a good night's rest and he'd be fine. He took another drink of water and ignored the pain that told him sleep wasn't going to cut it this time.

"Cas, I'm good. Don't get all worked up. Although I gotta admit your doctor vibe is kind of sexy..." Dean's chuckle turned into a hacking cough and he heard Cas mutter something about stubborn asses not listening to medical professionals.

Twenty minutes after hanging up the phone, Dean opened his door to find Bobby holding a white bag from the hotel gift shop. "Your doctor said to give you this and that I should stick around long enough to make sure you took everything. Nice to know you found someone just as pig-headed as you."

"Sneaky bastard..." He laughed softly, shaking his head as he took the bag. He thought it was a joke until Bobby planted his feet, crossed his arms, and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Dean ducked his head, then made a big production out of taking each dose. He turned back to Bobby. "Satisfied?"

"Yep. Now I can relax and enjoy the scotch Rufus and I had just opened when your boyfriend called." Dean opened his mouth to say something snarky, but Bobby held a hand up to stop him before he got a word out. "Don't even bother tryin' to argue. Friends don't act like a mother hen that way. Hell, I've known Rufus for thirty years and the most care he's ever shown is to toss me a shammy cloth when I busted my knuckle on a carburetor." 

Dean snorted a laugh. "Whatever you say, coach. But just so we're clear, I wasn't gonna argue." Bobby narrowed his eyes, clearly waiting for the punchline. When it didn't come, he nodded his head once and clapped Dean on the back. 

"Okay then. See you in the morning." With that, he stepped into the hall, the door closing behind him.  

By morning, Dean wasn't feeling much better, but he showered and got dressed, then met the team for another day of photo shoots and interviews. He continued taking the meds and made sure to drink plenty of fluids, just as the doctor ordered. By the time they left Phoenix, the fever was gone and his appetite returned. 

Dean leaned back in his seat and stared out the window at the tarmac. It was kind of nice to have someone worry about him for a change. Anna used to, back in the early stages of their marriage. Later on, her worry started to feel more like ammunition in a fight than genuine concern. It had been so long since anyone cared enough to give a damn about him. He had his family, but that was different. Family had to do that sort of thing... the people he dated didn't. Still, even though Dean wasn't quite sure what to do with it, he couldn’t deny that he liked it. Maybe this thing with Cas would be good for him... in more ways than one.

"Get off! I can do it myself," Mac shouted as she batted Dr. Cas' hands away. She was so frustrated... she walked just fine yesterday and today... she didn't even get two steps in before her stupid legs buckled. 

"Mackenzie, you need to be patient. This is a process and you've got to give yourself a break. I know it's—"

"You don't know anything. Look at you. You can just hop right into the pool whenever you feel like it or go outside and run anytime you want. You don't know what I'm going through. So just shut up and leave me alone!" She sank to the floor after yet another failed attempt to get up on her own, her shoulders slumping in defeat. The teardrops were falling on her lap before she even noticed she was crying. Then she felt a presence and glanced over to find Dr. Cas sitting on the floor beside her. He didn't stare at her or try to talk... he just let her cry. A few minutes later, she leaned her head on his shoulder and reached out to put her small hand in his large one. She missed her dad. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You're angry and you have every right to be. You've lost so much... and you need to grieve that loss." He looked at her then. "I'm not talking about your mother. Yes, you have to mourn her, too... but I'm talking about feeling the loss of your legs... your mobility... your freedom. It's easy to forget that when you get too focused on fixing the problem. I know it's hard, but you just have to let yourself go through it." 

"I really am sorry I yelled at you, though. I know you're only trying to help me. It's your job."

"It is, but that's not why I do it. You might not have noticed, but I don't really treat children... not anymore." Mac's confused frown made him elaborate. "I had a case similar to yours a few years back. Her name was Claire and she was so much like you... but I lost her. She had a rare heart defect that no one knew about until after her death." 

Mac looked up at him. His expression was full of sadness, his eyes downcast. She squeezed his hand and went back to resting on his shoulder. 

"I had to grieve. And for a long time, I couldn't imagine ever being able to treat another child again. Then you came in with your dad and changed everything. I helped you because I  _wanted_ to. You are a brave, wonderful girl, Mackenzie. And every day you come in here and work so hard, you give me hope that I can still make a difference in someone's life." She sniffed and he produced a tissue, seemingly out of nowhere, and handed it to her to blow her nose. "Now, how about we blow off the rest of your session today and get Charlie to take us for some ice cream?"

"Did someone just say ice cream?" Gabe was approaching them with a bag in his hand. Mac sat up and wiped the tears from her face. He noticed, but he was cool enough not to say anything about it. "Here, this is for you and your old man. I found it when Kevin and I were cleaning the storage closet and thought you'd get a kick out of it. I also found a can of Spam from seven years ago, but I didn't think you'd care for that..."

"Hello, Gabe, nice to see you, too." Dr. Cas was pretty hilarious when he was irritated with his brother. It kind of made Mac wish she had a sibling of her own. Then Gabe stuck his tongue out and yeah, she could see how a brother or sister could be annoying.  

Mac took the bag and eagerly opened it to peek inside. She pulled out the large yellow box and her eyes went wide. "Dude... This is the original Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots. Where did you get this?"

"How should I know? Stuff just shows up there and I clean it out every couple of years." Without being told, he grabbed her wheelchair and brought it closer. "I distinctly remember hearing the words  _ice cream_. Why are we still here?" 

Cas stood up and bent down to lift Mac into her chair. She gave him a small, grateful smile and he patted her shoulder. Then Gabe shoved him aside and grabbed the handles so he could push the chair. "Boys, please... no need to fight over me, I have enough like in my heart for both of you."

"Get a load of this kid," Gabe said to his brother. "She thinks she's funny, doesn't she?"

"She's funnier than you," Cas mumbled.

"Oh, shots fired," Mac interjected. "You need some ice for that burn, Gabe?" 

By the time they got to the lobby, all three of them were laughing and trash-talking each other. Charlie stood up and glanced at the clock, clearly confused by Mac coming back out so soon. "What's up?" 

"Everything's fine. Mackenzie's just a little tired after working so hard yesterday, so I'm giving her the day off. We've decided you're taking us for ice cream." He smiled at Charlie and Mac was amused to see it had the same dazzling effect on her... which was funny because Charlie liked girls. 

"Sure, I can do that. Everyone okay piling into the Gremlin?" Cas wrinkled his nose like he smelled something nasty and Mac snorted a laugh. 

"No. We'll take the Jeep," he replied as he retrieved his keys from his pocket. 

A few minutes later, they were all digging into a monstrous banana split that was almost the size of a turkey platter. Gabe was in heaven, shoving all the candy toppings in his mouth before anyone else could get to them. Mac nearly spit out her bite when Cas whacked the back of his brother's hand with a spoon. 

"Ouch! What the hell, Cassie? You know how I feel about M&Ms..." Gabe was pouting, full bottom lip and everything. He was really laying it on thick. 

"Yes, you like them almost as much as I do. This is my side. Get your own."

"I ate mine," Gabe mumbled. He looked so pathetic, Mac took pity on him and scooped her toppings onto his side. He beamed and turned his triumphant expression toward Cas. "Ha! At least Mac loves me." 

Overall, it was the least healthy lunch Mac had ever eaten. And despite her difficult session, she knew this would go down as one of her favorite days of all time. She felt like a closer bond had been formed between her and the doctor. Cas not only made her feel better, but he opened up to her and trusted her with one of his saddest memories. That took a lot of guts and Mac was touched that he was willing to share it with her. It only proved what she had known all along... Cas was the perfect match for her dad. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did our research on the Tough Mudder events, and had to take a bit of creative license to move the dates/times/etc. No offense meant to those that participate.

Castiel ended the call with Dean and paced the room, considering his options. He called the hotel first to secure the meds Dean needed. Now he just had to find someone to deliver it... someone Dean would listen to. Coach Singer was probably the only person in the world Dean wouldn't argue with. He texted Charlie for the coach's info and waited for her reply. The second it came in, he dialed the number.

"Hello?" Castiel heard the gruff voice on the other end and found himself sitting up straighter. 

"Yes, uh... hello, sir. This is Dr. Castiel Novak. I'm a... friend of Dean's. We met at the victory party after the series..."

"Uh-huh. And why are you callin' me?" The man wasn't exactly rude, but he wasn't friendly either. He seemed like the type of no-nonsense individual that wouldn't tolerate any bullshit, so Castiel got right to the matter at hand. 

"I'm calling on behalf of Dean. He seems to have come down with something and requires medication. I have already purchased what he needs through the concierge, but I need someone to take it to him." There... direct and thorough. Castiel relaxed, thinking the hard part was over. 

"And the concierge can't do this for you?"

"No, sir... Dean's going to need someone to stand there and make sure he takes the meds. He can be rather stubborn..." Castiel trailed off when he heard the coach howling with laughter.

"Boy, did you ever hit the nail on the head... Yeah, I'll bring it to him."

"Good... thank you." 

"You're welcome, kid."  _Kid?_  Castiel hadn't been a kid in a very long time. The thought of the older man referring to other grown men that way made him smile. He set his phone on the coffee table and felt the tension drain from his shoulders, relieved to know Dean was taken care of.

After a dreamless sleep, he woke to a brief text from Dean thanking him for the meds. Throughout his morning run, he couldn't stop smiling, and he was still in a great mood by the time he dove into the pool. He finished the usual number of laps and was coming up the steps when Meg stepped in front of him. 

"I need a consult." She was all business, her tone indicating that it wasn't a request.

Castiel wiped his towel over his face and nodded. "Sure. When?"

"Now." He raised an eyebrow but shrugged and followed her down the hall, wrapping the towel around his waist to minimize the water dripping on the tiled floor. In the conference room, she pointed to the large flatscreen on the opposite wall and he moved closer to look at the patient's MRI. The spinal damage was quite severe. Meg gave him a rundown of the injury and the patient's physical health assessment.

He inhaled and blew it out as he ran a hand through his wet hair. "It doesn't look good... I don't think we can help this one, Meg." It wasn't often that they turned people away from the clinic, but they both knew better than to raise hope when there was none. 

"Agreed. I just needed a second opinion..." She trailed off, then forced a smile and pointed. "Go get dressed. You're leaving a puddle." He dropped the towel to the floor to dry the mess, then picked it up and headed for his office to shower and change.

After the consult with Meg, his mood was dampened... but knowing Mackenzie would be coming in soon helped pull him out of his momentary funk. The girl was getting stronger and regaining more abilities with each passing day. Despite her setback yesterday, Castiel was confident that she would be swimming again very soon... maybe even running. 

When Mackenzie arrived, her spirits were high. Castiel watched from the other side of the glass as she took steps using the parallel bars to help with balance. She walked back and forth a few times and then Castiel stepped into the room. "You're doing great, Mackenzie. Let's try something different today." Billie looked at him questioningly, knowing there were no new notes in her chart. He smiled. "Will you help our patient get into her swimsuit?"

"I don't have water therapy today," Mackenzie said, her forehead crinkling in confusion.

"I know. I did say  _something different_..." He let the 'duh' go unsaid. Her grin told him she heard it loud and clear. 

Instead of the smaller pool they normally used for her sessions, Castiel was waiting at the large one where he did his laps. He was wearing his trunks and an enigmatic smile. She nibbled her lip anxiously. "What are we going to do?"

"You're going to swim today." Up to this point, Mackenzie had only been doing light exercises in the water. With the strength returning to her legs, it was time to let her see what she could do. Her smile was brilliant, but he saw a trace of fear in her eyes. "Hey, Mac?" It was the first time he used the shortened version of her name and she picked up on it. She met his eyes and held steady. "I'll be with you all the way." 

"But what if I can't do it?" The look in her eyes almost broke Castiel's heart, but he couldn't let it show on his face. He needed to be strong and steady.

"Then you fail... and we try again." He waited until her fear turned into determination, then gave her a decisive nod. "Ready?"

"Ready," she answered, her voice quiet but confident. He handed his phone to Billie and it was already queued to record a video. If this went well, he wanted Dean to see his little girl swim for the first time since before the accident. 

He eased into the pool and then guided Mackenzie until she was standing next to him in the chest-deep water. "Let's do this," she said and then struck out for the opposite end of the pool, her arms cutting through the water in smooth arcs. Castiel matched her stroke for stroke, keeping his eyes on her throughout the first lap. A touch on her arm told her to stop and she beamed at him. "I did it."

"You sure did." Her excitement was contagious and he found himself grinning back at her. "How do you feel?" 

"Good...  _great_ actually. Can we do more?"

"Two more laps," Castiel responded and he laughed when her kick sent a wave of water over him. He stayed just behind her and after the first turn, stopped at the halfway point to watch as her confidence increased. He saw the future Olympian in her and felt a rush of happiness that Mackenzie's dream was once again within her reach. She swam to him and reached out her arms, laughing as Castiel hugged her and twirled her around in the water. "I'm so proud of you, Mac." When did this child become so important to him?

Without taking the time to look at the video, Castiel sent it to Dean with a brief message about Mackenzie's session. It didn't take long for Dean to respond with a video of his own. He appeared to be at a television studio... suddenly, the familiar face of Ellen DeGeneres appeared next to him. They were both cheering and pumping their fists in the air as they chanted, " _Mac is back. Mac is back._ " The video panned around to catch the entire audience joining in, then Dean was onscreen again. 

"I love you so much, Princess. I can't wait to see it for myself when I get home," he said with a laugh. Then he blew a kiss and the camera flipped around to Ellen, who was apparently holding Dean's phone. 

"One more thing, Mac," Ellen said with a wink. "Just keep swimming." The video ended and Castiel watched it with Mac, then sent it to her so she would have her own copy to keep. 

That night, long after dinner and catching up on his chart notations, Castiel sat on the couch waiting for Conan to start since Dean was appearing on the show tonight. He already watched the DVR recording of Dean's interview on Ellen... she'd been thoroughly charmed by Dean and their banter was entertaining, to say the least.

Castiel listened patiently to Conan's monologue and had to admit he found the man funny. There were several interviews for some sci-fi movie coming out on Netflix, followed by a commercial break. Castiel took the time to grab a beer from the fridge, then settled back in his favorite chair just as the camera swept over the studio audience before settling in on Conan again. 

"I have Dean Winchester with me tonight. Even if you don't follow baseball, you'll probably recognize his pretty face from social media. This man and his team, the Austin Demons, won the World Series." There was a round of cheers, then he held his hand up to quiet the audience. "More importantly, at least to me, is the time they've spent over the last few days touring the country and giving back. Ladies and gentlemen, Dean Winchester." Dean stepped out to thunderous applause. He was smiling broadly and waved to the audience before going in for a bro hug with Conan. The dark jeans and chambray shirt he was wearing looked gorgeous on him. 

"So, Dean, tell us about this coast-to-coast tour." Castiel listened as Dean did a recap of his travels with the team. He managed to sound humble even though the host recounted the tales of Dean and the Demons' good works. A few minutes into the interview, Conan looked at the camera and announced, "We've arranged for a little surprise for Dean. We're nothing if not thorough in our research of our guests, and we have it on good authority that Dean and his younger brother, Sam, love to partake in a brewski or two now and then." Dean was looking perplexed, but smiling graciously. "We decided to fly Sam in so he can show us how to hang with the Winchester brothers." Dean opened his mouth in shock and then stood to greet Sam as he walked onstage.

Two stagehands wheeled out a keg, and before Castiel knew what was happening, Sam was being held upside down by Conan and Dean. Castiel hadn't seen a keg-stand since his college days and he laughed out loud. When the segment was over, Castiel sent a text to Dean. 

 **Text from Castiel/11:52PM – Funny, I don't remember doing keg-stands when I was 'hanging with the Winchester brothers' ;-)**

He didn't expect to get an answer since Dean was with Sam, so he was surprised when the text alert sounded.

 **Text from Dean/11:58PM – No, we were busy doing 'something else' ;-)**

Castiel stared at the words, his heart skipping a beat at the memory. He decided to go for broke.

 **Text from Castiel/12:01AM – Hurry home so we can do more of the same.**

**Text from Dean/12:03AM – Damn, Cas... you can't just say shit like that...**

**Text from Castiel/12:06AM – Goodnight, Dean.**

**Text from Dean/12:07AM - Night, Cas**

Grinning, he put his phone on the nightstand and laid down, the pillow curling around his head as he sank into its softness. He closed his eyes and imagined Dean leaning over him, his green eyes sliding shut as their lips meet. It was enough to make him half-hard and he reminded himself that he still had three days to go...

Saturday morning, Castiel drew a line through LA on his calendar and noted that Dean would be landing in Austin sometime before lunch. Only two more days and Dean would be back in Dallas... another step closer to their date.

To help pass the time, Castiel went to the clinic's barn and saddled up one of his favorite horses. It was a brisk day and the sun was shining... perfect riding weather. The complex sat on five acres and there was a wooded area behind them that had a few riding trails. 

He clicked his tongue and the handsome gelding broke into an easy trot. Once under the canopy of trees, Castiel slowed the horse to a walk and set out to enjoy his day. His phone's ringtone sent the horse dancing sideways for a few steps, but he quickly settled under Castiel's experienced hands. "Hello?"

"Cas, hey, what's up?" Castiel smiled and relaxed in the saddle.

"Just taking a ride. It's a beautiful day."

"Road trip? Got the windows down, music turned up?"

"I'm on a horse, Dean." 

"Ride 'em, cowboy," Dean said with a sexy laugh. Castiel shook his head, but laughed softly. "Hey, I loved the video, man. I wish I could have been there for Mac's first swim." He sounded almost hurt.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I wasn't thinking. I just...Mackenzie had a bad session on Thursday and I wanted to give her something positive..."

"Dude, it's cool. I'm not mad at all. Hell, you sent me the video, which was pretty fuckin' awesome by the way." Not knowing what to say, Castiel stayed silent, letting the horse meander through the woods. "Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?

"You spending time with Mac... it means a lot to me." His voice was soft and... sweet.

"She's a great kid, Dean. It's a little strange how attached I've gotten. I'm not sure it's very professional of me," he joked. 

"Professionalism's overrated. I'll take you however I can get you." There was that sexy laugh again. Castiel felt a thrill race up his spine.

"Is that so? I'll have to remember that..." His voice was gravelly and he heard Dean's sharp intake of breath. 

"Uh... yeah... you do that," Dean stumbled. "Listen, about that date... We're doing the Tough Mudder in Austin on Sunday, so how's Monday night?"

"Monday's good... but I only have one request," Castiel baited.

"What's that?"

"You're driving. I've been dying to ride in that car since the first time I saw her." He heard Dean groan and the sound went straight to his dick.

"Jesus, Cas... I swear, when I get home..." Dean let the words hang like a promise. They chatted for a few more minutes, then Dean was off to catch another flight. Castiel rode for an hour, then spent another grooming the horse before returning it to the pasture. It was mindless work and it calmed his turbulent thoughts. So much had changed in the last month, and all of it was for the better. Without even knowing it, Dean had given Castiel something he'd been missing for a very long time... hope. 

In his career, hope was a dangerous thing... it often led to patients crashing into depression when treatment didn't work out as planned. Before he met Claire, Castiel had been a different person. He used to believe in being optimistic and that miracles were possible. After her death, he knew miracles were a fallacy and he learned that hoping for the best only led to being blind to the worst. Then everything with Bart only solidified that mindset. It became his way of life... and it was easier than facing inevitable disappointment.

What he felt for Dean proved that having more was possible... and that it was okay to let go and dream a little. He didn't know if he would ever be able to repay him for it, but Castiel would certainly try.  

Dean sat on the plush couch in the green room, waiting for his cue to join Ellen onstage. Filming was due to start in a few minutes, so he grabbed a bottle of water and drank half the contents. His phone alerted him to a new message. It was from Cas... a video of Mac...  _swimming_. He felt a lump in his throat and heat behind his eyes. Just then, the door flew open and Ellen swept into the room. 

"Dean Winchester, the hero from Hell. How're you doin' today?" She spoke in an easy-going manner, but her eyes were sharp and zeroed in on him instantly. She glanced at the phone in his hand and raised her eyebrows in question.

"Just got a video from my kid's doctor. Want to see?" Dean shifted as she plunked down next to him and leaned over in his space. It was like having a Jack Russell Terrier around... hyper-intelligent, boundless energy, unflinching curiosity... and no concept of personal boundaries. Dean should have found it off-putting but for some reason, it made him like Ellen even more. He hit the replay icon and turned up the volume. 

"Wow... that's your kid? She is one strong cookie." She elbowed him in the side and a conspiratorial smile lit her face. "Hey, let's make a response video. She'll love it. Come on," she ordered while yanking him up by his arm. 

The video turned out to be awesome... even the audience got in on the action. Then Ellen pulled out her Dory voice and said, "Just keep swimming." Dean lost it.

"I can't believe you just said that," he laughed. She responded with a booty-bump and shooed him away so she could start the show. Dean decided right then and there that he liked her just fine.

After leaving Ellen's studio, Dean did a short interview with a local paper before he was whisked away to do Conan's show. He waited until he was alone to watch the video of Mac again. Watching his little girl swim with Cas made Dean's heart melt. Cas was so good with her... and the way he smiled and hugged her in her moment of triumph... Dean was overcome with emotion. He owed Cas a debt he could never repay.

After watching the video two more times, he sighed and put his phone away, knowing he should be watching the screen for his introduction. He tilted back in his chair and stared blankly at the show as it unfolded. Conan was talking about something political and Dean tried to stay focused, but his mind kept wandering back to Cas and Mac. 

Dating was easy when Anna was alive. He had every other weekend with Mac, so on his off days, he could stay out all night with as many men or women as he wanted. Anna's death changed everything. He alone was responsible for Mac and had been a bachelor for a long time. Would he be enough for Cas? Dean was used to people dating him for nothing more than the novelty of being close to a celebrity. Most never stuck around long enough to really get to know him. He was pretty sure Cas was different, but a small part of him was afraid of letting the doctor get too close. What if Dean let him in, only for Cas to leave him like everyone else did?

"Mr. Winchester, we're ready for you now." 

Shaking himself out of his morose thoughts, he followed the PA down the hall to wait for his cue. "I have Dean Winchester with me tonight. Even if you don't follow baseball, you'll probably recognize his pretty face from social media. This man and his team, the Austin Demons, won the World Series." The audience cheered, then Conan continued. "More importantly, at least to me, is the time they've spent over the last few days touring the country and giving back. Ladies and gentlemen, Dean Winchester." 

Dean walked out waving to the crowd, then stopped to shake hands with Conan before being pulled into a hug. The two of them stood center-stage until the applause died down. "Have a seat," Conan said, gesturing toward the stools. Dean sat and they starting talking like they were old friends just hanging out. Then Conan put his hand on Dean's shoulder and stared into one of the cameras. 

"We have arranged for a little surprise for Dean. We are nothing if not thorough in our research of our guests and we have it on good authority that Dean and his younger brother, Sam, love to partake in a brewski or two now and then." Dean kept smiling, but he wasn't sure where this was going. "We decided to fly Sam in so he can show us how to hang with the Winchester brothers." 

What the fuck? Dean looked from the host to the side of the stage. Sam strolled out with a smile and Dean stood. He hugged his brother, whispering, "What the hell, man?" Sam laughed.

"Hey, I was just as shocked as you when they told me to fly out for this." Sam shook Conan's hand and sat down on his other side. Conan made a few jokes about the Winchester tradition of getting kegs for each other's birthdays. 

"I know it's not anyone's birthday, but I thought we could do a keg stand in honor of Dean's retirement from baseball." Conan turned to Sam. "You game?" Sam shrugged and nodded.

The keg was wheeled to the center of the stage, then Conan and Dean hoisted Sam upside down to drink from the tap. The audience loved it. After the show, Sam joined the team for a night out. The LA scene was far removed from Dean's ideal evening. He used to enjoy it, but now he found himself longing for a quiet night at home with a movie, some popcorn, and Cas.

The final stop on the tour was back in Austin, where the team would participate in the Tough Mudder. They were running a full marathon on behalf of Team Rubicon, a charity that coordinates domestic disaster relief through the military. Given how hard Texas was hit during the hurricane season, the Demons didn't mind the extra miles of obstacles... especially after Crowley promised to match whatever funds they raised.   

Since the Mudder was on Sunday, they flew out Saturday morning so the guys would have plenty of time to rest up and load up on carbs and potassium. Dean couldn't have been happier. He was finally going home to Mac... and to Cas. 

Austin welcomed their team home with a massive parade that shut down the city the entire afternoon. The bars ran themed specials, including a new drink called the All-American Demon Dean. It was Fireball Whisky mixed with vanilla vodka and apple juice, served in a brown sugar-rimmed glass. Dean loved his drink since it tasted like his two favorite things... whisky and apple pie. Dean stuck around for a while to celebrate, but he was excited to get home and ended up leaving early. 

Finally home, Dean spent the evening watching crappy reality shows with Mac while Charlie packed their gear for the next day. They got up the next morning and made pancakes and a ton of bacon. Sam came over to ride with them to the event. This time, the Tough Mudder was hosted at a ranch in Smithville, Texas, just fifty miles from Austin. While Sam helped Mac into the car, Dean took a quick minute to text Cas.  

 **Text from Dean/7:32AM – Heading out for the Mudder. Should be finished by mid-afternoon, then we're heading back to Dallas in the morning. What time should I pick you up tomorrow night?**

**Text from Cas/7:33AM – Good luck today. Will six be okay?**

**Text from Dean/7:34AM – Six is great. See you soon :-)**

Dean knew the event was supposed to be over at two o'clock, and he was tempted to change the plan so they could go out tonight instead. He didn't want to wait another day to see Cas again. But that would only give him four hours to get back to Dallas, shower, and get to Cas' place. Dean didn't want to push it and he knew by the time he picked Cas up, he'd be too exhausted to truly enjoy their time together. It sucked to wait, but Cas was worth it. In the past, going out on dates was something Dean tolerated for publicity or a stepping stone to sex. This felt different... he was actually looking forward to spending an evening in Cas' company, even if it didn't lead to sex.  

"Dad's got that look again," Mac said as Dean settled behind the wheel. He glared at her in the rearview mirror.

"What look?"

"All googly-eyed. You were texting  _Caaaas_ , weren't you? About your hot date?" Sam laughed at his niece's teasing and poked at Dean's ribs.

"Hot date, huh?" 

"Both of you can cram it." He ignored their snickering and turned up the music for a distraction. His strategy backfired when REO Speedwagon's  _Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore_  was playing on the radio. He reached out to change the station and Sam wrestled his hand away until Dean gave up and accepted his fate. Sam and Mac started singing dramatically at the top of their lungs. Dean tried to maintain his grumpy scowl, but gave in by the time they got to the second verse. When the chorus hit, Dean was practically shouting the lyrics, much to the delight of the occupants of the car next to them at the stoplight.  _Shit_. 

The place where the Mudder was being held seemed crowded beyond reason, but Dean found his team easily thanks to the group of friends and family that came to cheer them on. They were wearing Demons fan gear and waving the flaming flags from the stadium. Sam was on Mac duty and found a place to sit where they could watch the main areas of the race. Dean joined Benny, Garth, and Mick at the registration tent and pulled on his blue headband. 

He was so ready for this. It had been too long since he'd done something that pushed his body to its limits. All the traveling and inactivity over the past two weeks had his muscles begging for an outlet. The whistle blew and they were off to take on the first section, which was down and dirty. Dean dropped to his belly and slithered under the netting of rope. The mud was cold and seemed to immediately find every crevice of his body. He hated the taste of it in his mouth, but he pressed onward. Covered in filth, he and Benny helped get the rest of their team over the wall. The obstacles got harder as they progressed, and Dean was starting to feel winded. They were just past the halfway point and he was feeling the strain. "Come on, brother... we got this." Benny laid his huge hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed. 

"We got this," Dean said with a tired nod, then gripped the thick rope to swing over the pool of muddy water. At the three-quarter mark, he was handed a bottle of water and downed it quickly, then rolled his shoulders and shook out his legs to avoid cramps. They were almost done. He could see the endpoint where Mac and Sam were waiting. Reminding himself they were running for a good cause was enough to kick his ass back into gear. He threw himself into the final stretch with renewed vigor, jaw set with determination. 

Dean crossed the finish line behind Benny as the crowd cheered them on, then they turned and waited for the rest of their team to finish. When the last man joined them, they headed over to get their official orange headbands, then donned the symbol of their accomplishment with pride. He was fairly certain his body would be cursing him tomorrow but at the moment, Dean felt great.

On the drive home, the plastic tarp he was sitting on crinkled under his sweaty, mud-caked ass. He couldn't get in the shower fast enough. He let the hot water sluice over his aching muscles and mentally checked the Tough Mudder off his bucket list. He did it, it was awesome, and he was never doing it again. His shower ended up taking twice as long as usual... even after thoroughly washing and rinsing his body, he still kept finding mud in places... his ears, the crack of his ass... it was disgusting. Two more passes did the trick and he took some time to spray down the walls and floor before getting out to dry off. 

Dean swiped his towel across the steamed mirror and turned his head side to side trying to decide if he should shave. He ran a hand down his scruffy cheek. Dates meant kissing. He snatched up the expensive cream and slathered it on his face, then changed his mind and wiped it off. This was a good look on him and one more day of stubble would be even better. 

Later that night, he collapsed into bed. The last thought he had before slipping into a deep and dreamless sleep was that in less than twenty-four hours, he'd be with Cas.

"You ready, Princess?" Dean called out from the living room the next morning. They still had to drive to Dallas and the minutes were ticking. "Mac... come on." He paced the foyer, pausing to stretch his sore muscles while glancing at his watch. What was taking so long? "If you don't get your ass..." He stopped when she stepped into the hall, her old stuffed unicorn under her arm. "Mac..." Dean gaped as she took a step and then another. 

"Dr. Cas said I should try walking more... only with supervision." She stopped in front of him and he folded her into his arms. 

"I'm so proud of you, baby girl." He closed his eyes and breathed in the fruity smell of her shampoo. He took a step back and grinned. There was so much he wanted to say, but he was too overcome to get more than a few words out. "Ready to hit the road?"

"I'm ready," Mac replied, her expression a mixture of happiness and relief. 

The drive back to Dallas was uneventful and they made it in record time. Dean tried to tell himself that it wasn't because he was eager for his date with Cas, but he knew that's exactly what it was. Judging by the periodic smirks from Charlie and Mac, they were thinking the same.

Several hours later, Dean took one last look in his bathroom mirror. "Not bad, Winchester." He splashed on some cologne and flipped off the light, then made his way to the kitchen. Charlie and Mac were perusing the contents of the fridge. 

"Pizza or Chinese?" Charlie took a sniff of the leftovers and wrinkled her nose. She tossed the offensive contents in the trash and returned to the fridge for a pack of chicken. "Or I can do a stir-fry."

"Stir-fry sounds good," Mac said as she inspected her father's appearance. "You're wearing that?"

Dean looked down at his shirt and jeans. "What's wrong with this?"

"Nothing, if you're going to a construction site or a lumberjack convention," Mac said with an eye roll. "Flannel, Dad? Really?"

"There's nothing wrong with flannel. This is almost new," he said indignantly, smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt.

"What about that maroon shirt I got you for your birthday? That seems more appropriate for a first date than...  _this_." She extended a hand and gestured at all of him.  _Rude_. Dean frowned and thought back... yeah, he remembered that one. Charlie said it brought out the green in his eyes.  

"Fine,  _jeez_ ," he huffed, stalking back to his room. He rummaged in the closet, hoping it was among the clothes he brought from Austin when they moved. Just when he was about to abandon the search, he found it hanging next to his favorite leather jacket. He pulled both garments out and changed, the soft fabric settling nicely on his shoulders. He hated to admit it, but his daughter was right. When he turned around, Mac was sprawled on his bed. She pointed her finger and made a twirling motion. With a grumble at how stupid he felt, he complied.

"Much better. Now, remember to be a gentleman... open his door, pull out his chair, and don't forget the flowers."

"Flowers? Cas is a dude." She gave him  _the look_... the same one her Uncle Sam mastered as a child. That damn look put puppies to shame and made Dean go along with every fucking thing his brother wanted. He melted, of course, nodding his head in silent agreement.

"Make sure they're nice and not some cheap gas station crap." Her tone left no room for argument. She was totally serious and Dean knew there was no way he would disappoint her. 

Mac nudged him toward the door and Dean halted to give her a kiss and a hug. "Thanks, Princess," he whispered. She squeezed him back, then Dean headed out, turning to tell Charlie not to wait up as he waved. Where the hell was he going to get flowers? As he backed out of the driveway, he set his phone on the console. "Siri, find florists." He followed the directions to a small storefront not too far from Gabe's costume shop and ran inside. "Yeah, hi," he said to the older woman behind the counter. "I need some flowers for a first date."

"I can help you with that. Are you looking for something simple?" She pointed to some carnations and even Dean could tell it wasn't what Mac had in mind.

"No... more like... uh... I really like him and want to see where this goes." She lifted a brow and smiled as she started moving around the shop. She gathered some greenery and placed it around some fuchsia and purple flowers. Her forehead wrinkled as she considered what to tie it with, then she reached for the plain twine and wrapped it tightly around the stems. "Yeah, that's good," she said with a nod of approval.

Dean grinned and slid his credit card across the counter and gently picked up the bouquet. He hoped Cas wouldn't think this was cheesy. "Thanks, ma'am. Wish me luck," he winked. 

"Good luck, dear," she called as he swept out into the evening air.  

Castiel growled as he threw the black shirt on top of the blue one currently topping the pile of discarded clothing on his bed. He had nothing to wear. "And now I’m a teenage girl," he muttered to his reflection, clad only in a pair of dress slacks and loafers. Should he change into jeans? They hadn't talked about the date, other than setting the time. Dean seemed okay with letting Castiel plan it... but he hadn't planned a thing. Castiel didn't date... he had no clue what he was supposed to do to impress someone. He let out a frustrated groan and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Breathe," he told the frantic eyes in the mirror.

Dinner... he wanted to pick a place Dean would love, but the man was a famous celebrity and had been  _everywhere_. Then it occurred to Castiel that Dean was choosing to leave that life behind. During one of their marathon phone calls, he'd talked about how eager he was to lead a simpler life and just  _be_. 

The best casual place he knew of was Tutta's Pizza, a local restaurant that was a hometown favorite. It seemed like something Dean would like. Castiel and Gabriel ate there at least twice a month. When he thought about sharing it with Dean, he smiled for the first time all day. They didn't take reservations, but he knew it wouldn't be crowded on a Monday night. Confident in his choice, Castiel returned to his wardrobe to change into some jeans and find a shirt. 

He glanced at the clock on his phone and was startled by the incoming text. Gabriel... 

 **Text from Gabe/5:48PM – Hey, bro. Just wanted to wish you luck. Here's something for you while you wait for your hot date to pick you up. ;-)**

Castiel frowned as he clicked the YouTube link. The video loaded and began playing... his mouth went dry. It must have been taken when Dean was on the press tour. He was singing a song Castiel hadn't heard before. Hearing Dean's voice growling out lyrics about being tied to a whipping post... it went straight to his cock. The video ended and he quickly saved it to his favorites before replying to his brother's text.

 **Text from Cas/5:53PM - Asshole... you did that on purpose.**

**Text from Gabe/5:54PM – You're welcome. Be safe. And if you can't be safe, name it after me.**

He was about to tell his brother to shut the fuck up when he heard the rumbling sound of a powerful engine coming from his driveway. It drove all thoughts of Gabriel out of his mind and he grinned, thrilled that he was finally going to ride in that black beast. Running nervous fingers through his untamable hair, he tried not to make it obvious that he was waiting for Dean's knock. When it came, Castiel swallowed and counted to ten before opening the door. "Hello, Dean."

Dean's face lit up with a brilliant smile. "Hey, Cas." They stood awkwardly for several beats and then Castiel noticed the flowers. He was touched by the gesture and hoped it showed in his expression. Dean blushed as he shoved them forward. "First date... Mac wanted me to impress you." 

Castiel laughed and took the offered flowers, holding them up to his nose to take in the heady aroma. No one had ever given him flowers before... they were beautiful. "Consider me impressed," he said softly, gesturing for Dean to enter his home. "Let me get these in water. Just... make yourself at home." He glanced around, trying to see his house through another's eyes. The room was elegant but masculine. The open floorplan allowed him to watch Dean while he found a vase. 

Strong hands caressed the keys to his piano and it sent a shiver up Castiel's spine. He longed to have those hands on his body... his skin. Dean looked up when Castiel came closer. "You play?"

"Yes. Years of oppressive parenting... music was my escape." 

"I fool around with guitar a little... nothing special," Dean shrugged, and Castiel didn't ask for details. He was still trying to rein in his erotic thoughts from that damn video. Dean turned toward him and clapped his hands together. "So... where we going?" 

"I thought I'd show you a local spot I'm fond of..." He trailed off, hoping Dean wouldn't be disappointed with his choice.

"Awesome," Dean said with a grin, his eyes twinkling with excitement. Castiel felt himself relax as he grabbed his phone and pulled on his jacket. At the door, Dean hesitated and Castiel tilted his head in question. "I... uh... hope this is alright..." He curled a hand behind Castiel's neck and pulled him close. The kiss was slow and easy, the brush of Dean's lips against his own making him moan softly. Dean sighed and smiled when he pulled back, their foreheads pressed together. "I've been wanting to do that for the last two weeks." Castiel felt dazed and leaned forward for another kiss, but Dean stepped away with a chuckle and took his hand. "Come on, babe, let's go eat... because if we don't leave right freakin' now, we won't make it out of the house."

Dean opened the car door and Castiel slid into the passenger seat. The car smelled of leather and  _Dean_... it was heavenly. Dean got behind the wheel and gave him a rakish grin. "Isn't she a sexy ride?"

Castiel lifted a brow and stifled a laugh. "There are so many things I could say about that..." 

"Mind out of the gutter, dude. Baby's a lady." The drive downtown was filled with laughter and teasing remarks and Castiel was so at ease, he forgot to be nervous. Dean placed his hand at the small of his back as they entered the restaurant. The familiar scent of garlic and oregano hit his nostrils and he breathed in the comforting atmosphere. The hostess seated them at a small table and promised the server would be right with them. Less than a minute later, a pretty blonde stepped up holding two menus. 

"Hi, y'all," she said, her soft Texas drawl coming off as flirty. She set the menus in front of both men and leaned down, her ample cleavage spilling over the plunging neckline of her shirt. "What can I get you boys to drink tonight?"

"What's on tap," Dean asked, not looking at the display in front of him. Castiel silently gave him extra points for that. The woman recited a long list of beer and Dean settled on a local microbrew. "Cas?"

"I'll have the same." She smiled at them and sauntered off, her hips swaying provocatively. Dean picked up his menu. 

"Holy shit, Cas..." Dean said reverently as he looked up. "Why haven't you told me about this place before?"

Castiel laughed softly. "I wasn't aware you were this crazy about pizza. And to think I almost chose a breakfast place."

"It's probably a good thing you went with pizza then. Nothing's sexier than bacon," Dean said with an exaggerated leer. 

"Duly noted," Castiel said with a wink. He took satisfaction at Dean's slightly flustered look.

"Yeah..." He cleared his throat and looked back at the menu, his ears a delightful shade of pink. Castiel sat back as the server placed their drinks in front of them. They settled on their favorite toppings and Dean reached over to munch on the breadsticks. After he put away five, Castiel wondered where the man put it all... he chalked it up to the metabolism of a professional athlete.

While waiting for their meals, the conversation turned to Dean's tour and Castiel found himself fascinated by all the colorful stories. He heard some of them before, since they spoke just about every day the past couple of weeks, but seeing Dean's animated features as he talked about the kids he met and the funny antics of his teammates made it a whole new experience. Castiel felt himself fall a little more. 

"I feel like I've been doing all the talking. I don't want to be one of  _those_ dates," Dean added with a shy smile.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Dean. I like your stories. You seem to view the world with such wonder..." Castiel trailed off, worried that he'd said too much. He quickly changed the subject. "Oh, before I forget... I know you probably have plans already, but Gabriel wanted me to invite you to Thanksgiving at my place. You and Mac... Sam, too... and Charlie, if she's free..." He was babbling and stopped abruptly.

Dean hesitated a second too long and Castiel rambled on without looking up. "Like I said... you probably have plans of your own. It was just a thought... in case you didn't... have plans, I mean." Jesus, he felt awkward and wished Dean would say something.

"No, we don't have anything planned. Usually, it's just me and Sam... unless it's my turn with Mac. We always just went out to eat somewhere. But Thanksgiving is a family thing... are you sure you want the entire Winchester gang? We're kind of a rowdy bunch..."

"I do," Castiel said sincerely. He remembered his fantasy of having a full table and a house filled with laughter. Dean eyed him for a few seconds before breaking into a playful grin. 

"Guess I'll be able to see how good a cook you are. Mac told me you're a catch because you know your way around a kitchen." 

"She did, huh? The little schemer... I still can't believe she teamed up with Gabriel." 

"I'd like to think we'd have figured it out on our own, but having Mac's approval makes it easier."

"I'm sure it can get complicated, trying to date as a single parent.," Castiel took a sip of his beer. He knew from the start that being with Dean was a package deal. The man was a full-time father now. In a few short years, Mackenzie would be busy spending time with her friends and living through the drama of high school... but for now, she was Dean's focus and Castiel accepted that.

"It's never really been an issue before. The weekends I had Mac, I didn't go out. She was my only concern unless I was traveling with the team. When she was with Anna, I pretty much did my own thing... dating, hook-ups, whatever..." He shrugged. "Things are different now." Dean was staring at his hands and looking pensive. Castiel felt the need to reassure him and reached across the table to put his hand on top of Dean's.

"Dean, I know Mackenzie is your first priority, just as she should be. I'm happy to be even a small part of your life." Dean's eyes narrowed and he shook his head.

"I don't want you to feel like you're just a small part, Cas. If we're gonna make this work, I'll do everything I can to make sure you never feel that way." Dean turned his hand, allowing their fingers to entwine. Castiel looked down at them and smiled. Not for the first time, Castiel realized how much more he smiled when he was with Dean. 

Their meals came and they reluctantly released their hold on each other. The food disappeared slowly in the midst of conversation that never seemed stilted. They effortlessly transitioned from one subject to another until Dean finally pushed his plate away. "Damn, that was good," he sighed with a pat to his belly. The server returned, her timing impeccable.

"Did y'all save room for dessert?" Both men shook their heads and she cleared away their plates. She smiled coyly at Dean, but when he didn't even look at her, she turned her attention to Castiel. "Can I get you anything else, sugar?"

"No, thanks. Just the check," Castiel answered politely. It was possible that she didn't notice them holding hands earlier, but he still thought she was inconsiderate to flirt with either one of them. To clear things up, he added, "Darling, I thought we could take a walk since it's such a lovely evening." 

Dean seemed to be hiding a smile, but he played along. "Sure, anything you want,  _babe_." Castiel saw the understanding dawn in her eyes, but her smile never faltered. He mentally added a few dollars to the tip. When she was out of earshot, Dean released a chuckle. " _Darling_?"

"She was looking at you..."

"She wasn't  _only_ looking at me, Cas," Dean added with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk. "I think you're downright adorable when you're jealous." Castiel felt himself blush, but rolled his eyes good-naturedly. The server set the black folder on the table next to him and he took out his wallet. Dean reached for the bill, but Castiel rested his palm on it, nearly breaking into a laugh when he saw the disgruntled look on Dean's face.

"No. I asked  _you_ out, remember?" Dean huffed, but let Castiel slide his credit card into the folder. 

Outside, the weather was crisp and slightly chilly, but still nice enough to take a stroll. The Arts District was brightly lit and music from some of the bars in the area filtered through the air. After a few minutes of walking in silence, Dean took Castiel's hand in his. This was what had been missing from his relationship with Bart. Dean wasn't afraid of people seeing them together... and he didn't treat Castiel like some dirty secret. 

A sudden rush of affection made him tighten his hand. Dean looked sideways at him, winked, and started humming a familiar tune. It took Castiel a few seconds to recognize the song...  _Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore_. This just became the perfect date... easily the best date he'd ever had. He never wanted it to end.

The first drop of rain hit Castiel square on the forehead and he frowned as he looked up at the sky. "What the...?" He was propelled forward when Dean tugged at his hand.

"Come on, Cas..." Dean took off at a jog, his firm grip leaving Castiel no choice but to follow. He groaned. His perfect date was ruined... all because he forgot to check the damn forecast. Their walk was supposed to be romantic. The soft drops turned into a downpour and Dean's pace increased until they were both running hand in hand. Dean stopped abruptly and Castiel stumbled against his back. "Whoa, babe. Let's duck in here." He pushed Castiel under a large awning and into a dimly lit club. The haunting sound of a tenor sax stopped Castiel in his tracks. His eyes found the man on stage and he turned to grin at Dean, his hair dripping on his face and down his neck.

"Let's find a table," he said and Dean pursed his lips before nodding. The soulful music calmed Castiel's pulse, still racing from the unexpected rush of adrenaline. "I love places like this," he said, his eyes drawn to the stage again. The bar reminded him of an old-fashioned speakeasy. He spied the grand piano on the stage and his fingers itched to play. Dean was staring at him, a knowing smile on his face. "What?"

"You're fuckin' gorgeous," Dean raised Castiel's hand to his lips, tracing each knuckle with a soft kiss. Castiel's pulse shot back up as he watched Dean's mouth press against his skin. Dean's eyes locked onto his and for a moment, there was nothing else but the two of them. The moment was broken when a server came by for their drink order. A song began and the man's voice was low and seductive... which reminded him of the video.

"I have a confession to make," Castiel said with a flirtatious half-smile. Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded for him to continue. "Recently, I saw a video of you singing. I think it was during your tour..." 

Dean seemed embarrassed and his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.  _Interesting_. "How recent?"

"Very," Castiel answered vaguely. Dean narrowed his eyes. "Okay, I watched it about two minutes before you picked me up. Gabriel sent it to me..." The server dropped off their beers and Dean took a large gulp of his before setting the bottle back down, holding it in a loose grip.

"Not sure what bothers me the most, Gabriel searching for me on the internet or that the video exists." He squinted his eyes and continued, "I don't remember singing in public... not where anyone could record it anyway. What was the song?" 

Castiel hesitated before replying. His answer could turn things either really hot or really awkward. Since he preferred the former, he pulled out all the stops. He leaned forward slightly, one arm resting casually on the table, his fingers casually playing across the surface of his beer bottle. Then he licked his lips and dropped his voice into a deep, sultry tone. "It was something about you being tied down. I believe whips were involved."

The effect was immediate. Dean's breath hitched, his pupils dilated, and his fist clenched so hard, Castiel thought it might break the glass. He licked his lips. "You want to get out of here?"

Castiel was definitely ready to go, but he suspected Dean wouldn't want two drenched passengers in his car. "What about the rain?" 

"Fuck the rain."

This was getting fun. Castiel quirked his head to the side and held up his beer. "What about our drinks?"

"Fuck the drinks." Dean's face was hard and determined, his eyes dark with desire. Castiel was sure he looked the same. 

"Okay," he answered simply. Without another word, Dean tossed a twenty on the table, grabbed Castiel's hand, and all but dragged him out of the bar. The rain was a light drizzle now, so they were able to get to the car without getting too wet. Somehow, between the two of them, they made it back to his house.  

They pulled into his driveway just as the rain began coming down in torrents. "Shit... looks like we're stuck here for a while," Dean said as he rubbed the back of his neck. The steady rhythm of the windshield wipers seemed to sync with Castiel's pulse. Their eyes met and the air seemed charged with electricity. 

The next thing Castiel knew, he was being hauled across the seat, their lips meeting in a fierce kiss. Dean's fingers were in his hair... it felt  _so good_. He moaned and the fingers clenched, pulling his hair and tilting his head back. Then Dean's lips and tongue were kissing a line down his neck and back up to his ear. When his tongue dipped into the shell of his ear, Castiel shivered. Dean exhaled against his temple, his breath warm against his skin. "I want you," he whispered. Unable to form words, Castiel simply nodded. "Should we run for it?" Dean took his hands away and Castiel suddenly felt cold.

"Yes," Castiel answered, tearing his gaze away from Dean and staring out into the darkness. 

"Count of three..." Dean said, taking the key out of the ignition. The silence was broken only by the thrumming of the rain on the car. "One... two..." 

Their doors swung open before Dean got to the last number and they dashed for the porch. Castiel fumbled for his house key and practically shoved it into the lock. He didn't have to bother with the alarm, since Dean's kiss completely distracted him from setting it earlier. They stumbled over the threshold and Castiel slammed the door shut. As soon as their eyes met, he shoved Dean against the wall, then took both hands in a tight grip and held them in place over Dean's head. Having the ridiculously sexy athlete at his mercy was intoxicating and Castiel thrust his hips against Dean's, groaning when he felt the man's erection. God, he wanted this man. 

He loosened his hold and slid down to fold Dean's hand in his own. With a soft kiss, Castiel turned and led Dean up the stairs. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whips/bondage thing is said flirtatiously. We will NOT be drifting into BDSM territory, though your imagination is free to do so.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates. Life and work has gotten in the way lately. We will try to do better.

Dean's back hit the wall and he felt his heartrate skyrocket. Then Cas pinned his arms and grinded against him and he thought he was about to have a freaking heart attack. He let Cas lead him upstairs, each step bringing him closer to living the fantasy that began the moment the doctor stepped out of that pool weeks ago. Everything about the night was perfect.  _Cas_  was perfect. 

He was smiling until Cas paused at the top of the stairs, then turned and licked his lips. He looked nervous... a far cry from the man who pinned him against the wall a few minutes ago. Dean reached out and placed his hands on Cas' waist and moved in until they were touching from chest to hip. He closed his eyes and lowered his mouth, bringing their lips together lightly... just a breath of a kiss. His thumbs hooked under Cas' belt and he spoke softly. "We don't have to do this right now..."

"I want you, Dean...  _s_ _o much_. I'm just... it's been a long time." Dean wanted to ask if Bart was the last, but bringing that prick up now would only kill the mood.

"You don't have to prove anything to me, Cas. Not now... not ever. I'm just happy to be with you." Cas seemed to relax at his words, but Dean needed to make sure he wasn't feeling pressured. "I'm with you no matter what, so you lead the way," he said as he nodded down the hall.

"Bedroom," Cas whispered huskily and together they walked to the doorway, the entrance looming like an unspoken promise. His damp clothes were cold and he was eager to get out of them, but Dean wasn't going to rush this. Just inside the bedroom, they stopped again as Cas switched on the light. Dean didn't even bother to look around the room. He only had eyes for Cas and he needed more... so much more. He gently pulled Cas into his arms again and nuzzled against his neck. 

Cas made a soft mewling sound when Dean nipped at his earlobe. "You like that?"

" _Yes_..." Cas groaned and leaned into his touch. Dean had a sudden desire to learn all the ways he could make Cas purr. He felt hands move up to his throat, nimble fingers working each button free. Taking that as his cue to move things forward, he untucked Cas' shirt and caressed the skin along the top of his jeans, only to discover how chilly it felt. Dean felt an urge to protect this man... to keep him safe and warm.

"You're cold," Dean said softly and gave him another kiss. 

"Hmm," Cas murmured and pushed Dean's shirt off his shoulders. "I don't feel cold..." 

He nipped Cas' lower lip and chuckled, "Smart-ass." Pressing closer, his hands skimmed over Cas' back. Dean coaxed Cas' mouth open with his tongue and swept inside his hot mouth. Cas let him take control and he deepened the kiss. Heart pounding, Dean found the top button of Cas' shirt and let out a frustrated moan when his fingers didn't move fast enough. While he tried to focus on his task, Cas' hands roamed across his shoulders, over his back, and kept going down to cup his ass. 

"Have I told you how much I love your ass?" Cas' voice in his ear was incredibly distracting... there were too many fucking buttons on this damn thing.

"Can't say that you have..." Dean mumbled and then grinned triumphantly when he was finally done and Cas' shirt fell open, revealing chiseled chest and abs. He raked his eyes up slowly, then fixed on those gorgeous baby blues and licked his lips. Desire flared in Cas' expression as he took a step back and slid off his shoes. He slowly unbuckled his belt, unfastened his jeans, and let them drop to the floor, never once breaking eye contact. When he stepped out of his pants and kicked them away, Dean took the opportunity to shed his own clothing as quickly as he could, then tossed everything to the damp pile on the floor. 

He looked up to find Cas standing in his underwear... orange boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination. Damn, the man had beautiful legs... strong and muscular... they'd feel so good wrapped around his waist. Dean reached down to give his cock some much-needed attention through the cotton of his briefs and heard a small gasp. He met Cas' heated gaze and continued running his fingers up and down his length. Cas watched for a few seconds, then closed the distance between them.

"Tease," he grumbled, leaning in to brush their lips together. Dean lifted his hands to Cas' chest, wanting... no,  _needing_ to feel him. He let his thumbs rub Cas' nipples, loving how quickly they hardened under his touch.

Dean felt Cas palm his cock and hissed, "Yes..." 

"I've dreamed about this... so many times," Cas said, his hand rubbing up and down Dean's length. Dean let out a throaty moan in response and then his waistband was shoved down, freeing his hardened cock. The cool air was almost too much. Cas palmed Dean's balls and closed the other hand around his shaft, stroking him with slow, purposeful motions. Dean wanted to touch Cas too, but the sensation of the doctor's capable hands left him temporarily dazed, so he just held on. A sharp bite on his neck brought his mind back online and he nudged his knee between Cas' legs to feel for his erection. Damn, he was hard... and  _thick_.  

"Bed," Cas commanded, his voice thick and raspy. He pulled his hands away and looked at Dean with intent and... something else. The brightness of the overhead light threw the features of Cas' face into sharp relief, and Dean watched his pupils darken with desire before turning to walk toward the bed. He discarded his briefs, taking the time to glance down the backside Cas' body and raise his eyebrows in appreciation. Dean wasn't sure he would ever stop being amazed by the sight of this man. He reached back and flipped off the light switch, the illumination from the hall falling through the doorway and across the bed. His reverie was broken by a frustrated sound. 

"Cas, what the..." Dean looked on in amusement as Cas bent down and swept across the bed, sending a large mass of clothing to the floor with a growl. "Laundry day?" Dean smirked at Cas' smitey face. The man looked like he was personally insulted by the mess.

"Shut up. I was nervous and ended up trying on my entire wardrobe," Cas said, his voice tinged with embarrassment. 

"Yeah, well that's nothing. Mac insulted what I was wearing, then made me change and spin around like a goddamn ballerina," Dean countered. Cas laughed, the tension draining from him immediately.  _Mission accomplished_. Dean crossed to the bed and pushed Cas down, more laughter bursting from him with the impact. Dean was smiling as he lowered himself, his body draped on top as he sought out those incredible lips. The kiss was hot and passionate, every movement filled with longing and affection. Dean lifted his head and almost wished the room was brighter so he could see everything shadowed by his hovering body, currently blocking the meagre light from the hallway. A hand slid into his hair and pulled him back down to Cas' mouth.  

Cas' other hand caressed down Dean's back and dipped to palm his bare ass. A thrill shot up his spine and he couldn't hold back the sigh that escaped, nor the groan that followed when he felt fingernails digging into his flesh. He mouthed along the sharp line of Cas' jaw... down his neck... up to the soft area behind his ear. "I'm beginning to think you have a fetish," he whispered.

Cas' chest shook with a low chuckle, and Dean took the opportunity to roll them over. Now straddling him, Cas sat up and stared down at Dean, licking his lips slowly. "I'm fairly certain I'm not the only one enamored with your ass, Dean." He trailed a fingertip down Dean's chest to his navel, stopping at the line of hair leading to his bush. "Although I'm beginning to think my fetish is you...  _all_ of you." 

He shifted his body so he was between Dean's legs. Cas eyed his dick with shameless lust... an almost ravenous hunger that made Dean want to instinctively cover himself. The impulse was gone as soon as it came when the air shifted in the room. A hand on his hips pinned Dean in place as Cas' lips parted... head lowered... tongue extended... and Dean was lost.

His fists curled in the sheets as Cas licked his slit. It felt so damn good. Wet heat engulfed the head of his cock and Dean gasped, "Cas...  _fuck_..." A tight hand gripped the base of his shaft and pumped up and down in perfect time with Cas' mouth. Once again, Dean found himself wishing the light was on so he could watch the sexiest man he'd ever met give him head. He knew it would have been a mental image to keep until the day he died. 

With sex, Dean had always been the kind of guy who liked it hard and dirty. He only toned it down with Anna because he put a ring on her finger... but even then, it had only felt like a mutual race to orgasm. Before this, it was a release to Dean. This didn't feel like that at all. This felt like coming home... like  _completion_. And in this moment, all he wanted was for this to last forever. Cas' hands... his mouth... even the brush of his unruly hair against Dean's thighs... it was overwhelming. If he didn't slow things down, it would be over far too soon. "Cas... babe..." 

Eyes looked up as Cas' mouth lifted with a wet sound, lips slick with Dean's arousal and spit.  _God_ _damn_... Dean had something to say, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was. Cas tilted his head and swirled his tongue around the head of Dean's cock.  _Oh, yeah_... "Cas, if you don't stop now... we won't get to the good stuff."

Cas hummed and the vibration made something coil hot and wild in Dean's stomach. "I thought..."  _lick, swirl..._ "this was the..."  _lick... teeth... fuck._  "good stuff."

Dean couldn't help it... he laughed. Cas smiled around a mouthful of cock. Dean couldn't remember laughing during sex before. Had he ever enjoyed being with someone this much? "You know what I mean, smartass."

Cas released his cock and began moving up Dean's body, leaving a trail of kisses all the way up to the hollow of his throat. Dean heard himself moan as Cas drew their lips together and rolled until they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Dean felt a mixture of arousal and awkwardness... this was the part he hated. How do you ask someone if he's a top or a bottom? Dean preferred to switch, but only if he really trusted the guy... which hardly ever happened. As though reading his mind, Cas took Dean's hand and moved it to his ass. His whisper was a breath against Dean's lips. " _Touch me_."

Castiel watched the emotions play over Dean's face in the dim light from the hall. He knew they had reached the point where one of them would ask the question, and from the look on Dean's face, he was feeling nervous about it. Castiel made the decision for him and placed Dean's hand firmly on his ass. " _Touch me_." He saw relief wash over the man's handsome face and tried not to smile. It was something they would have to talk about, but not now. 

Dean didn't rush into action, but gently ghosted his fingers over the soft downy hairs... down to his upper thigh and back up again, keeping their eyes locked the whole time. He seemed hesitant and eager all at once. "Are you sure?" 

"Yes, Dean...  _very_ sure." Castiel answered, placing a kiss on the corner of Dean's mouth. His eyes slid shut as he felt Dean's fingers trail down the cleft of his ass. Castiel kept his hands still, lightly resting on Dean's biceps as he felt the breaths on his face grow more rapid. He knew they needed to stop to retrieve supplies from the bedside drawer, but he was perfectly content to let Dean explore for now. When a fingertip brushed across his entrance, Castiel sighed and brought his leg up to give more access. Dean lingered there for only a moment before moving to the sensitive area behind his balls, then pressed his thumb until Castiel arched his back and groaned with pleasure. " _Yes_ ," he hissed. Dean's mouth caught the word as he buried Castiel in a filthy kiss... their breaths mingling... tongues entwining... it was enough to make him lightheaded.  

Dean pulled away, dropped a kiss to the end of Castiel's nose, and smiled. "Do you..."

"Nightstand drawer," Castiel answered a little too quickly. 

"Good to know," Dean chuckled. "I'll get there in a minute, but that's not what I was gonna ask." Castiel felt his face heat. He bit his lip and waited for Dean to finish.

"I wanted to know if it was okay to turn on a lamp because... I'd really like to see you." Castiel couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face. 

"I'd like to see you, too... but I think I have something a little more romantic than a lamp," he said, reluctantly releasing his hold on Dean's arms to sit up.

"Romantic?" Dean looked amused when Castiel just stood up, leaving the question unanswered. He crossed over to his dresser and, rummaging behind a stack of books, found what he was looking for. Using the lighter he kept for emergencies, Castiel began lighting the candles scattered around his room. He'd never used them before now... he only bought them because he loved the calming scent of vanilla they provided. When he was finished, he turned back to the bed to find Dean leaning on an elbow... watching him. 

Castiel remained motionless as he let Dean drink his fill. He wasn't ashamed to say that he looked good. Even at the age of forty, Castiel was aware that his daily regimen of exercise paid off handsomely. Dean's gaze moved slowly down and back up again. If anyone else looked at him that way, Castiel would have been insulted... but he knew Dean wasn't objectifying him. There was both appreciation and desire in his expression. "Come here," Dean said, his voice low and husky.

He strode across the room and knelt on the bed, his hand reaching for the drawer. Inwardly praying the condoms weren't expired, he set the box on the pillow, then located the bottle of Astroglide. He handed it to Dean, but he tossed it aside and reached for Castiel.

He found himself wrapped in Dean's arms again, mouths locked in a passionate kiss, strong legs rubbing against each other, cocks full and heavy between them. It was carnal and  _raw_ , and he wanted nothing more than to feel Dean inside of him. "Dean, I need..."

Dean guided him until he was lying on his stomach, then pressed his body against Castiel's side, allowing plenty of room for his hands to roam. He felt Dean's mouth on his shoulder and then the ridge of his spine. The sound of their combined breathing, ragged with need, was interrupted by the snap of a plastic cap. He willed his body to relax and there it was again... Dean's fingertip against his entrance. He felt the cold trickle of lube on his heated flesh and moaned. All of his senses were heightened and he felt each and every drop as it slid down the crack of his ass.   

Castiel shivered as Dean's finger slipped inside, the tight muscle giving way with only the barest hint of discomfort. More kisses were lavished on his upper back as Dean moved in and out. A silence had fallen between them, but it was far from uncomfortable. In the past, some of his sexual partners felt the need to fill every quiet moment with filthy words or inane conversation. Being with Dean was so different. There had been easy laughter and a few needy words, but for the most part, they were content to let their bodies speak to each other. 

Castiel felt another finger push inside and breathed deeply while his body adjusted. He shivered when teeth nipped at his earlobe, then Dean curled his fingers and brushed against Castiel's prostate. He whimpered and rolled his hips, the friction from the bedding feeling like heaven on his aching cock. He was fairly certain Dean's mouth smiled against his skin in response. 

The bite on his shoulder was hard enough to make Castiel gasp, but it turned into a bone-deep groan when Dean added a third finger. He lifted his hips wantonly and Dean plunged deeper inside his body. The stretch and the burn left him panting as he rutted shamelessly into the sheets. Dean made a growling sound in his throat and Castiel felt the wetness of the man's arousal against his hip. " _Fuck, Cas_..." 

Castiel carefully raised himself up to his knees and elbows. Dean stared at him, his fingers still pumping in and out of Castiel's hole. The room was filled with the musky scent of sex and aftershave and suddenly, Dean's fingers weren't nearly enough. "Dean, I...  _please_..."

"No... not like this." Dean rose up to kneel and ran his other hand down the center of Castiel's back. "I need to see you, Cas." Dean's voice was so thick with emotion, Castiel hung his head as he tried to regain control of his senses and think.  _Was this love?_  If not, it was pretty damn close. He swallowed and nodded. Dean withdrew his fingers and Castiel maneuvered into position. On his back, with his legs bent and spread, he felt far too vulnerable. His pulse sped up as his mind was flooded with the memory of opening his heart to someone, only to be cast aside without a second thought. Then he remembered this was Dean... and he would never hurt Castiel that way. He pushed his dark thoughts away and met Dean's gaze. The smallest of smiles played at his lips. "You are so beautiful, Cas."

He felt the blush on his cheeks, but before he could say anything, Dean picked up the bottle of lube again. He closed his mouth and waited, holding his breath in anticipation. Dean slicked up Castiel's cock before moving back to his hole. Two fingers slipped in easily, then three. He looked up from what he was doing, a question in his eyes... Castiel nodded. 

With quick and efficient movements, Dean opened a condom and rolled it down his shaft. That was another thing they should talk about... Castiel was clean, but he would give Dean written proof. If this was going to be a monogamous relationship, he preferred the intimacy of skin on skin. The idea of feeling Dean moving inside him with nothing between them filled Castiel with want.  

Dean leaned forward, braced an arm on the bed, and used his other hand to guide himself to Castiel's entrance. Castiel breathed in and out, calling on years of yoga to relax his body. He wasn't afraid it would hurt, but he knew how long it had been since he bottomed. He felt the pressure and then the head of Dean's cock was inside him. Dean stopped and met Castiel's eyes, silently checking to make sure he was okay. He could feel the coiled tension in Dean's muscles. "I'm good."

With a brief nod, Dean pushed, going deeper and deeper. Castiel felt every single inch until Dean's hips were flush against the back of his thighs. Dean leaned down to kiss him lazily, then raised his head. Castiel thought he was going to say something, but he remained quiet and simply gazed down at him. In the candlelight, he couldn't read everything in Dean's expression, but he suspected it mirrored his own.

He raised his legs and hooked them around Dean's waist, drawing him closer until their chests were pressed together and he could feel their hearts beating against each other. Dean exhaled sharply.  "You feel... fuck, I'm not gonna last long." He touched their foreheads together and nuzzled against Castiel's cheek. "Promise me this won't be the only time." Dean huffed a laugh, but there was something more behind it... an insecurity Castiel recognized. He knew what fear of abandonment looked like and he didn't want Dean to ever feel that way. 

Castiel tightened his arms slightly, then slid his hand up to gently cup Dean's face, waiting for him meet his eyes. "I promise." The weak attempt at humor left Dean's eyes and something else took its place. Castiel's breath caught in his throat. Those words meant _everything_  and they both knew it. All at once, they moved in to bring their mouths together for a kiss filled with all the things they couldn't say. Dean pulled back and began to roll his hips slowly. They couldn't look away from each other and in that moment, Castiel knew his life would never be the same. 

This wasn't just sex... they were making love. Their movements were languid and filled with passion.  Castiel touched every bit of Dean's skin he could reach, desperately needing to carve each and every cell into his memory. In this position, Dean's stomach was pressing on Castiel's slick shaft, trapping it between them, and the push-pull was driving him closer and closer to the edge. He heard the slight hitch in Dean's heavy breathing and knew he was nearing his release. Castiel lifted his hips with each thrust, seeking more pressure on his prostate. He felt Dean's arms trembling now. "Cas...  _Cas_..." Dean's eyes were wide and he began to fuck Castiel faster and deeper. The friction on his own cock and the knowledge that Dean was almost there, drove Castiel on.   

"Dean..." His lover's name was all he could manage as he tumbled over the edge. White heat coiled and extended out to his hands and feet. He clenched his fingers in Dean's strong shoulders and came, his fingernails leaving small crescents where they dug in, his cum hot on his belly. Dean was panting now, the puffs of air warm on Castiel's face. With one last snap of his hips, his body stilled and he gasped. Castiel closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Dean's cock throbbing inside of him as he spilled into the condom. A longing to be marked as Dean's own coursed through him. Tomorrow... they'd talk about testing tomorrow.

Moments went by without a word spoken, but they communicated in other ways. Castiel held the back of Dean's head cradled in his hand like something precious. Dean kissed and licked along Castiel's neck and jawline like he couldn't get enough. It was perfect. He felt the cracks inside him mend and for the first time in years, Castiel felt  _whole_. Dean softened and slid out, drawing a sigh from Castiel. Dean kissed him and whispered, "Don't move, babe."

He watched Dean stand and take a step. By the way he wobbled, Castiel was sure his legs were like jello... not that he wasn't in the same boat. Dean stepped over the pile of clothing and made his way to the master bathroom. The light came on and he heard Dean mutter a curse at the brightness. Castiel took a moment to look around. The candles were still flickering, giving the room an intimate and predictably amorous glow. He wasn't ashamed to admit he was an incurable romantic at heart. 

Dean returned with a washcloth in his hand and cleaned Castiel's chest and stomach, then gently wiped the lube from between his cheeks. After another brief kiss, he went back to the bathroom to dispose of it and turn out the light. 

It hit Castiel then... Dean had a child at home and would probably leave now. He schooled his features so his disappointment didn't show on his face. As much as Castiel wanted to wake up next to his lover, he knew Dean had other responsibilities. He turned his head so he wouldn't have to see Dean when he started getting dressed. 

When Dean's weight dipped the mattress, Castiel still refused to let himself hope that Dean would stay. The ruffle and pull of the sheets made him pause. Then Dean was behind him, pressed to his back, his arm coming around to rest at his waist. Soft lips kissed the back of his neck. "Is this okay?"

"Of course, Dean. I enjoy... " Castiel cut himself off before he could say  _cuddling._ If he said it, he'd never hear the end of it. 

"What do you enjoy, Cas?  _Snuggling_?" He heard the smile in Dean's voice. 

"Yes, fine...  _snuggling_ ," Castiel chuckled as he placed his arm over Dean's, locking their fingers together. He was being allowed a little more time with Dean and he wasn't going to waste it. He closed his eyes and let the warmth of Dean's body relax him even more. "Do you have to leave soon?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Castiel felt Dean tense up behind him and seconds ticked by before he finally spoke. "I'm not... I mean, if you don't want me to stay..." The iron fist gripping Castiel's heart eased and he turned his head enough to see Dean's face. He looked...  _hurt_. Dean didn't want to leave...

"I want you to stay," Castiel said with certainty. He didn't want to leave any room for doubt. Dean's arms tightened as Castiel settled back on his pillow. He felt lips brushing along his shoulder and knew it had been the right thing to say. 

"Then I'll stay," Dean whispered.

The last thought Castiel had before he drifted off was that he had fallen completely, head-over-heels in love with this wonderful soul.

"Dean." Cas' gravelly voice woke him and before he opened his eyes, Dean smiled at the memories from last night. With a soft exhale, he blinked them open. Cas stood next to the bed holding a tray. He was smiling... not a big one, just a slight upturn of his lips. "I brought you breakfast."

"That's awesome. You didn't have to do that, though." Dean sat up and scooted so his back was against the headboard. Cas lowered the tray to his lap and Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing. It held one of the flowers he gave Cas last night, a bowl of cereal, and a cup of coffee, lightened with cream. Other than a paper towel and a spoon, that was all. "Wow... looks great. Is this... Captain Crunch?"

"I haven't been to the grocery store in a while. I wanted to make you something nice, but I didn't have any eggs." He looked sheepish and a little annoyed, judging by the scowl that now marred his features. Okay, so Cas wasn't exactly a morning person. For some reason, Dean found that adorable and reached out to tug at his hand.

"It's perfect... thanks, Cas. Come on, sit with me." Cas sat on the edge of the bed and played with the drawstring of the worn sweatpants he was wearing. The t-shirt was equally faded and the caption made Dean shake his head. It was a picture of a bone and said  _I found this humerus_. He couldn't resist poking the bear a little. "You know, Mac told me you could cook. She seemed to think that was a major selling point. If this is the best you can offer, I may have to lower the bar for romancing you."

Cas' expression was priceless. Dean tried hard to keep a straight face, but his lips twitched with the effort not to laugh. Cas noticed and narrowed his eyes. Dean calmly took a spoonful of cereal and made exaggerated noises of pleasure. "I'm more of a Lucky Charms kind of guy, but we'll have plenty of time to learn all about each other, won't we?" He gave Cas a boyish grin and winked, knowing the picture he made. 

"It's a good thing you're cute, Winchester."

"Cute?" Dean frowned at the word, then he pursed his lips and jutted out his chin. "I think I'm adorable." 

"Can't argue with that," Cas said, his deep voice going straight to Dean's dick. In an instant, the air was thick between them. Cas tilted his head and after a moment's hesitation, he leaned forward. Dean, conscious of the tray on his lap, met him halfway. It wasn't a passionate kiss... more filled with affection than anything else. Cas pulled away and sighed. "I wish I could stay in bed with you all day, but duty calls." Right, Cas had a job. Dean watched Cas' disappointment turn to concern in the blink of an eye. "What about Mac? Will she be worried? Should you give her a call?"

Dean was touched that Cas was so worried about Mac's well-being. He smiled softly and shook his head. "It's fine, Cas. I told Charlie not to wait up and Mac already knows about the birds and the bees." Dean grabbed the cup of coffee and with his other hand, set the tray on the bed. "She'll probably grill me when I get home. Gotta say, I'm not looking forward to  _that_ conversation, but what can you do?" He shrugged and leaned back against the headboard, still cradling the mug. "What time do you have to be at work?"

Cas glanced at the digital alarm clock on Dean's side of the bed.  _Wait, since when did Dean have a side in Cas' bed?_  Before he could examine that too closely, Cas answered. "I usually get to the clinic around seven for my workout, but I don't start seeing patients until eight." 

It was Dean's turn to check the clock... it was already after seven. "So... what's your week look like?" He wanted to ask when they could see each other again, but he didn't want to sound needy. He took his first sip of coffee and grimaced. He expected cream, but this had enough sugar in it to give him a mouthful of cavities. Cas caught the look and shrugged.  

"I wasn't sure how you took your coffee. I like mine slightly sweet."

" _Slightly_ sweet? Jesus, Cas... one spoonful is slightly sweet. This is just... wow." Cas raised an eyebrow and gave him a look that was very close to Sam's  _bitch please_ face. He took the cup from Dean's hand and took a sip, moaning in pleasure at the taste. The sound was too close to the noises Cas made last night and Dean had to shift his legs together and pray he didn't get a hard-on. 

"I don't have any plans for the week," Cas said, pulling Dean's mind back to the question from earlier. "Just the clinic..." He left the words hanging and Dean took the hint.

"Maybe we can do something tonight... not like anything formal or..." Dammit, this was  _Cas_. Why was he feeling so shy about asking for what he wanted?

"Perhaps you and Mac can come over for dinner. I can cook." His eyes drifted to the cereal bowl. "It seems I need to redeem myself from being such a culinary failure at breakfast."

Dean threw back his head and laughed.  _God, he loved this man_... His laughter died instantly. Where the fuck did  _that_ come from? He felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"Dean? Is everything alright?" 

 _Get it together, Winchester_. "Yeah... um... dinner would be great. Mac would get a kick out of it." Cas was still eying him suspiciously, so Dean changed the subject. "I'll just shower at my place... and leave you to get ready for work." He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and, remembering he was still naked, took a deep breath and flipped the sheet away as he stood. Feeling Cas' gaze on him, Dean decided to go for nonchalance as he bent to retrieve his underwear. There was a quiet groan followed by Cas clearing his throat to cover the sound. Dean was glad his back was turned because there was no way he could have hidden his grin. 

"Yes, I should get ready for work," Cas said in a measured tone. Dean slid his now-dry boxer briefs on, then turned and moved closer. 

"I'll see you tonight," he whispered with a kiss. He tasted like coffee and mint toothpaste. His arms snaked around Cas' waist and, with the sweats riding so low, touched warm skin. All he wanted was to crawl right back into bed and take his sexy doctor apart piece by piece. Growling in frustration, he stepped back, his eyes glued to Cas' perfect mouth.   

"Tonight..." Cas whispered as he moved further away. The man seemed just as dazed as he was, and Dean got a perverse sense of satisfaction from that. "Six?" 

"Six," Dean confirmed. He watched Cas disappear into his bathroom and smiled at the prospect of seeing him again at the end of the day. He pulled his jeans on... thankfully, they were mostly dry. He sat on the edge of the bed to put on his socks and boots, then stopped what he was doing when he heard the shower. Cas...  _naked_... He shook off his wayward thoughts and finished dressing, then called out a goodbye before he left. 

He was halfway home when he remembered the moment his mind betrayed him. He couldn't possibly love Cas yet...  _could he_? He switched off the radio. How long did he date Anna before he realized he loved her? Months? Now that he thought about it... had he ever really been in love with her? 

The sound of his phone brought him out of his musings. He stared at the text.

**Text from Cas/7:41 – Last night was perfect.**

_Dammit..._  Dean loved him. God help him, he was in love with Cas. His stomach was in knots. He'd spent so long running away from relationships and closing himself off from actually feeling anything, he didn't know how to simply accept it. What if Cas didn't feel the same way? Everything he knew about the doctor indicated that he was not one to act impulsively. 

Dean thought back to Cas' words from the night before... _”I want you to stay.”_ Falling asleep in Cas’ arms, Dean felt whole... like that was where he belonged. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as the realization hit him... even if he wasn't ready, it was too late. He was already head over heels and there was no going back. He shook his head and left the phone on the seat. He needed to think. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Fran:  
> I know it has been a long time between updates, but I've been going through a few personal issues. Hoping I'm back in the swing of things now.
> 
> From Amanda:  
> And my house has been a revolving door of cooties, turning our house into a damn infirmary. All is well now! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. ;-)

Mac heard the front door close and slammed her laptop shut, knowing her assignment would save automatically. Grabbing the walker from beside her desk, she headed toward the sounds in the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway when she saw her dad leaning over the counter, his head in his hands as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. Did he not have a good time on his date? He was only just now getting home, so he must have had  _some_  fun... right? Mac took a deep breath and decided to be direct. 

"So... was the date that bad, Daddy?" It was almost comical the way her dad whipped his head around in surprise. 

"What? No, it wasn't bad at all, Mac," he answered. "Why?" 

"I don't know... you just seem pretty stressed for a guy who had a good time, that's all. Didn't you have any fun?" Mac watched as her father leaned against the counter and wiped a hand down his face. He huffed a laugh, but it wasn't quite a happy one. Her confusion must have shown on her face. 

"Honestly... it was perfect, Princess. Really,  _really_ perfect." There was a slight smile on his face and Mac felt the tension drain from her shoulders. 

"Then what's up with... whatever this is?" She gestured to his hands and face, then moved across the room to be closer to him. This was a new experience for both of them. As far as she knew, her dad didn't really do the whole dating thing. Well... nothing serious anyway. Mac positioned herself against his side and reached down to take his hand. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything..." 

His face softened and he bent down to kiss her on the forehead. "When did you get so grown up?" He asked softly. Before she could answer, he assured her, "I'm okay, I promise. How was your night? Did you get your homework done?"

"Smooth change of subject, Daddy," she said with an eyeroll. "My night was fine and I have everything done, except for an essay on the historical significance of Alexander Hamilton's impact on the founding of America. We've been encouraged to listen to the Hamilton Broadway musical soundtrack. The teacher says it'll help us remember the dates of his most important works... and that it's awesome. I have to say I agree with her. I literally can't stop listening to it. And just so you know, I will be asking for tickets to the show for my birthday." 

"Is that right? Well, I'll see what I can do. I have a few connections, after all," he said with a wink. Mac watched her dad as he poured a cup of coffee, then waited until he took a sip to press him for info. 

"So... are you gonna tell me about your date or not? Where'd you go? What did you do? Was it romantic? Did you remember to bring him flowers?"

"Jesus, Mac, take a breath. Yes, I remembered the damn flowers." Mac raised an eyebrow to let him know she wanted more. He shrugged and heaved a sigh. "You were right... he loved them. Thank you for your guidance, Yoda."

"And....?" He just stared blankly and Mac started biting her lip in impatience. "Come on, Daddy... please?" 

"Okay, okay. We went to dinner and it was very nice. We had delicious pizza and went for a walk after. Then it rained and we had to run for cover in a blues bar. So we listened to some music and talked some more... and that's it." She imagined them holding hands and running in the rain and thought it must have been incredibly romantic.

"That's not everything... you only just now got home. Where did you go after the music place?" Mac was fairly certain she knew exactly where they ended up, but she wasn't about to ask about  _that_. She just wanted to make sure everything went well and that they were both happy. The blush on her dad's face was enough to confirm her suspicions. Oh, she couldn't wait to text Gabe...

"Mac, I'm not gonna share details with you. As close as we are, we'll never be that close. Now, go work on your essay while I make some pancakes." He started bustling around the kitchen, making it clear that he was done talking for now. Mac decided to leave it be and headed back to her room to resume her homework. Before diving in, she grabbed her phone to fire off a quick text.

 **Text from Mac/9:17AM - OMG! I talked 2 my dad... The d8 was gr8!**

**Text from Gabe/9:19AM - Stop talking in numbers, weirdo. I don't have my Rosetta stone on me.**

**Text from Mac/9:20AM - Ugh, fine... THE DATE WAS GREAT. Have you talked to your bro yet?**

**Text from Gabe/9:23AM - Not yet. Surprising him for lunch later. Want me to hang around for your appointment?**

**Text from Mac/9:24AM - Yes! Gotta run... homework. Smell ya later! ;-)**

Mac tossed her phone on the bed, opened her laptop, and focused on her essay. She was so buried in the task, she didn't even notice how much time had passed before her dad was summoning her to the table. Pleased at the progress she'd made, Mac sat down to a delicious stack of pancakes and rewarded herself with a massive dollop of whipped cream on top. She tried once again to get her dad to dish, but it was no good. Oh well... maybe she could get more from Cas at her appointment.

A couple of hours later, Mac threw her swimsuit in her bag and met her dad by the front door. He still seemed...  _off_. It didn't make any sense. If he and Cas had such an awesome time together, why did it seem like he was freaking out? 

"Dad... are you sure you're okay? You seem weird... well, weirder than usual," Mac said with a weak laugh.

"Just have a lot on my mind, that's all. Come on... we still have to get your chair loaded up." His hand was on the doorknob when he realized Mac wasn't following him. He turned and frowned, his eyes questioning. 

"Um... you haven't been here for a while. I don't really use the chair anymore..." Mac trailed off, her voice quiet and hesitant as she fixed her gaze on the floor. She didn't want to make her dad feel guilty about being gone the past two weeks, but she couldn't deny that she'd missed him terribly. She felt a gentle hand on her chin, coaxing her to look up into her father's sad face.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here, Princess. I'd have given anything to see you swim on your own for the first time since..." His voice faltered and he pulled her into a hug. "I'm so damn proud of you, Mac. I can't wait to see you kickin' ass today. Just remember... I'm here for good now. No more traveling... okay?" 

"Okay, Daddy." With one more squeeze, they released each other and headed for the car. It was so much easier to get around now that she didn't have to take that stupid wheelchair everywhere. The walker was still annoying, but at least she wasn't on the same level as everyone's butts anymore. No matter how many cool outings Charlie took her on, it was  _never_ fun to be stuck in the fart zone. She wouldn't miss that at all.

As they were crossing the parking lot of the clinic, her dad's cell phone rang and he answered. 

"Hey, Sammy. What's up?" Mac watched her father's calm expression fade into concern bordering on panic. "Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?" 

She reached out to grab his hand as he listened to whatever Uncle Sam was saying. He gestured like everything was okay and opened the door for her, motioning for her to go ahead. Dr. Cas was waiting inside and his face lit up when he saw them. Mac smiled and stopped short when she saw the doctor's face fall. She turned to look at her dad to find him completely absorbed in his call. It was definitely something serious, but she would ask him about it later. 

Mac greeted the doc, then followed him through the double doors, excited at the prospect of swimming again... that, and finally getting some juicy details.  

"Daddy said he had a perfect date last night," she said with a calculating grin. Cas responded with a tight smile that quickly faded. Was she missing something? Maybe he didn't enjoy the date as much as her dad did... that would  _not_ be good. In all her scheming, Mac never even considered the possibility of her father getting hurt in all this. What if Cas ended up not liking him? Suddenly, she didn't feel so great. 

"How are your legs feeling? I noticed you're putting more weight on them." She frowned at his abrupt tone but answered his questions anyway. She kept trying to get him to talk about the date, but he just kept changing the subject. Mac found herself growing angry at him and eventually, she shut down and poured all her energy into swimming as hard as she could. She didn't know what the doctor's problem was, but she wasn't about to let him do anything to break her dad's heart.

When the session was over, Cas walked her to the lobby. Mac started to say something but then the doctor was rushing back through the door, leaving her completely confused. She turned to find a stricken expression on her dad's face and felt her heart clench. This couldn't be happening. He ended his call and with a quick word for her to wait a minute, disappeared through the doors. 

Mac went over to the chairs and sank down. How had she gotten it so wrong? Her eyes started stinging and she blinked hard, refusing to give into the tears. Her dad might need her. Someone plopped into the next seat and she glanced up to find Gabe staring at her.

"What do you want?" Normally, she wouldn't be so rude, but she was feeling fiercely protective at the moment. It probably wasn't fair to take it out on her friend, but he was the one who was here.

"Whoa, Big Mac. What's with all the hostility?" 

"Oh, I don't know... maybe it's the fact that I just watched your brother be a complete dick to my dad for no reason." Mac winced at her bitter tone, but could only jut her chin out, daring Gabe to say something about her language. 

"Hey, now... no need for name-calling. Cassie may be a stick in the mud sometimes, but he's not a dick." Gabriel searched her eyes for a moment, then nudged her elbow. "Tell me what happened."

Mac told him everything she'd seen and heard from the second her dad came home to now. The more she talked, the deeper Gabe's frown got. It was clear he didn't understand either. 

"I don't get it. He was fine earlier... gushing like a girl after prom actually. I'm gonna get to the bottom of this, Mac... I promise." He put his arm around her and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. He seemed genuinely upset by her sadness.

"What if they don't like each other? We never even thought about that, Gabe. My dad looked pretty hurt and it... it made me feel rotten." Mac slumped in her seat, then straightened back up when the door opened. Her father was practically bouncing and his smile stretched ear-to-ear.  _What?_ One look at Gabe confirmed that he was just as perplexed as she was. They both looked at her dad again, then back at each other and shrugged. 

Gabe leaned over and whispered, "Guess Ross and Rachel worked it out on their own." Mac couldn't stifle her giggles and soon, they were both shaking with laughter.

"Do I even want to know?" Her father was standing there with his hands on his hips, one eyebrow quirked with his sideways smile. 

"No, dad. You really don't." Mac stood and turned around to give Gabe a high-five, but he shocked her by pulling her into a hug instead. His words were for her ears only.

"Don't worry so much, Big Mac. You and me... we did a good thing." He patted her on the back and let go, his usual smirk back in place as he sauntered outside. Mac started making her way to the door, pointedly ignoring her dad's curious glances. 

In the car, Mac couldn't help checking to make sure everything was alright. "Hey, Dad... are you and Cas okay?" His eyes darted over to her and back to the road.  

"Yeah, Princess. It's all good. Actually, I forgot to tell you we're going over to his place for dinner tonight." He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture he usually made when he was nervous about something. "Are you cool with that?"

"Of course, Daddy. I'm cool with anything that makes you happy." She smiled at him.  

"Okay, okay... no more chick-flick moments." They shared a laugh and Mac felt herself finally relax, relieved that he wasn't sad or hurting anymore. She didn't know what happened earlier, but it didn't matter because it was all better now. Her thoughts turned to their evening plans. The idea of sitting down to dinner with her dad and his new boyfriend made her feel warm inside. Suddenly, that song from The Lego Movie popped into her head... everything  _was_ awesome.

Castiel let his head fall back under the stream of hot water, the drops leaving rivulets on his chest as they washed down his body. Despite being in good shape, he was incredibly sore this morning. He smiled to himself, relishing in it... this was the kind of ache he loved. The whole night had been like a dream and turned out so much better than he expected.   

"Bye, Cas," Dean shouted from the bedroom, causing him to grin like an idiot... or a man in love. He picked up the shampoo and began replaying the night over and over in his mind. When he felt himself getting hard, he reined in his thoughts and refocused his efforts on getting ready for work. He didn't exactly have time to indulge this morning.

At the clinic, Castiel breezed into the breakroom to find Ruby and Meg drinking coffee. "Good morning, ladies. Isn't the weather beautiful?" Both women narrowed their eyes and some type of silent communication passed between them. Castiel prepared his coffee, pointedly ignoring their prying eyes.

"Looks like someone got laid," Ruby said. Normally, Castiel wouldn't tolerate that kind of familiarity from an employee, but no one could shatter his good mood today. He simply smiled, grabbed his coffee, and left the room without a word.

Meg followed him to his office and shut the door, all amusement gone from her expression. She sat down and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm worried about you, my friend."

Castiel sat his mug down and leaned forward, his hands clasped on his desk. "Don't be."

"I'm sure you remember that I was the one who was there for you when Bart showed his true colors. I helped pick up the pieces and I've spent the last few years watching you retreat further into yourself. I don't want you to go through anything like that again."

His face softened. Meg was justified in her concern. She had been his rock during that awful time in his life. If it wasn't for Meg and Gabriel holding him together, Castiel wouldn't have made it through. He knew she was just looking out for him, but Meg needed to understand that this was different.  _Dean_ was different. "I love you, Meg. You're the best friend a person could have, and I know you only want what's best for me... but weren't you the one who told me to take a chance a few weeks ago?"

The tension seemed to leave her body and she smiled. "Yeah, but—"

"But..." He cut her off. "Dean isn't like Bart. He's comfortable with who he is and doesn't hide his sexuality." 

"True, but he's from a different world than you. And don't forget he's got a kid... one that's almost a teenager... and she recently lost a parent  _and_ sustained a traumatic injury. You aren't just dating him, he's part of a package deal."

Castiel sat back in his chair and sighed. "I know all of that, Meg" He took a deep breath. "I have given this a lot of thought and..." He looked up and met her eyes. "I'm ready to love Mac as my own."

Meg's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa... Castiel, listen to yourself. You barely know him. The sex might have rocked your world, but you're talking like you expect him to drop to one knee any minute. Don't you think this might be a bit..." She paused as though measuring her words carefully, then seemed to give up on diplomacy altogether. "Shit, let's face it... you haven't really dated anyone since Bart. Maybe this is just your loneliness talking."

Castiel counted to ten before he spoke, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he tried to maintain control. He knew Meg was only trying to be a good friend, but he was an adult and quite capable of making his own decisions. "I know what I feel for him, Meg. This isn't only about sex. Dean and I spent the last two weeks talking and getting to know each other. He makes me happy." He held up a hand at her incredulous expression. "Listen to me... sometimes when you meet someone, you just  _know_. The truth is... I love him." There, he said it out loud.

"Oh, Clarence." He knew she wasn't thrilled about it, but using the nickname was her way of showing support. And if the need ever arose, she would be there to pick up the pieces again. They both stood and Castiel rounded his desk to pull her into a hug. She heaved a belabored sigh and squeezed her arms around his back. "I love you too, you big, dumb angel."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead before releasing her. "Don't we have a clinic to run?"

They parted to begin their busy workday and by lunch, Castiel was ready for a break. He quickly made his shopping list and was grabbing his keys when Gabriel stepped into his office. "Hey, bro. I'm hungry."

"So eat," Cas replied blandly.

"Your concern for my well-being is touching." He looked pointedly at the keys in Castiel's hand. "Come on, let's do lunch."

"I can't today. I have to pick up some groceries for tonight." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

Eying him with interest, Gabriel rubbed his hands together. "You're cooking? Well, that sounds like a plan. Shall I bring the wine?"

"You aren't invited," Castiel said quietly, bracing himself for his brother's reaction.

"You wound me, brother. My heart bleeds." Gabriel clutched his chest and donned his best forlorn puppy expression.

"You'll find a way to survive," Castiel said dryly. "Maybe Meg will have lunch with you." He moved to go around his brother, but Gabriel sidestepped him, effectively blocking the door.

"Not so fast. Who are you cooking this mysterious dinner for? Hmm, let me guess.... perhaps a certain baseball player?" Castiel kept his face impassive, but Gabriel wasn't fooled. "Wow, two nights in a row. Way to go, tiger."

"Gabriel..." 

Gabriel held up both hands, palms out. "No, seriously... I'm proud of you. It's about time you left that jerk behind and moved on with your life."

Castiel shook his head in dismissal and, once again, tried to get past Gabriel. How could such a short person be so immovable? "Gabriel, I really need to go. I only have ninety minutes until my next appointment." It was Mac's and he wondered if Dean would bring her. Since they slept together, would things be different between them? No, they were good this morning... no awkward silences... no stilted conversation...

"Hello, McFly..." Gabriel tapped him on the forehead obnoxiously. "Come in, McFly..." Castiel pulled his mind back to the present and slapped his brother's hand away. "Ah, there you are. Thought I lost you for a second." He grabbed Castiel's sleeve and started tugging him down the hallway. "What are we waiting for? Let's go. We can zip into Whole Foods and eat at the deli, then I'll help push the cart. Have you decided what you're gonna make for Mr. Wonderful? I'm quite fond of your pork tenderloin. You know, the one you do with the fruity glaze..." Knowing how pointless it was to argue with Gabriel, Castiel let out a heavy, dramatic sigh and fell into step beside his brother.

In the end, he let Gabriel talk him into making the tenderloin. He added potatoes to roast with rosemary and some fresh green beans to sauté with butter and almonds. They were on the way back to his house to unload the groceries when it hit him. "Wait... what if Mac doesn't like the food? Kids have different palates. I should have gone with something simpler..."

"Mac's gonna be there? Then why wasn't I invited?" He gave Castiel a calculating stare as they pulled into the driveway. Before Castiel could answer, Gabriel said, "It's okay, I get it. You want to show Dean you can be a family man. Take it from me, Cassie... Mac loves you. I'm pretty sure you already have her blessing." 

"That may be true, but I still need to include her in..." What... his life?  _Their_ life? 

"Okay, hold up. It's time for some big brother advice." He ignored Castiel's eyeroll. "Just relax and be yourself. If you two want to make a real go of it, you'll need some alone time. Don't feel the need to include Mac in everything. That kid is scary smart. I'm sure she understands... probably more than you know."

Castiel picked up the bags of groceries and headed for the house. "If we  _make a go of it_ , Mac will be part of my life, too. I just... it's complicated, that's all."

"Only if you make it complicated," Gabriel muttered. He helped Castiel unload the bags and put the food away in silence, his words hanging in the air. It sounded like a reproach, but Castiel didn't take it that way. Like Meg, his brother was only trying to help. And even though the logical part of him knew Gabriel was right, his emotional side wasn't inclined to agree that things were just that simple.

Back at the clinic, he expected Gabriel to get in his car and return to his shop, but he followed Castiel inside. At his questioning look, his brother said he wanted to say hello to Meg. It made sense... they were friends, too. 

Castiel paced the small confines of his office. Mac's appointment was in ten minutes. Should he wait for Ruby to buzz him, or should he go out to the lobby and wait? If he did that, it would look odd... wouldn't it? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, decision made. He would greet them. They were dating, after all. He had plenty of perfectly acceptable reasons to go meet his boyfriend. God, that sounded so juvenile...

Ruby looked up from her desk when he appeared. "Need something, boss?"

"I'm just waiting for Mac." No need to mention Dean and give her more gossip material for Meg.

"Uh-huh," she mumbled and went back to her computer screen. Through the glass doors, he saw the Impala pass by. Why were his hands sweaty? A few minutes later, Dean and Mac walked through the door. Dean had his phone to his ear and a serious expression on his face. He barely acknowledged Castiel and all the elation he'd felt about seeing Dean dissipated.  

"Come on, Mac. I think we'll start today with a few stretches in the gym and then we can get in the pool." Mac was staring after her father, but followed him through the doors. 

"Daddy said he had a perfect date last night," she said with a sly grin. He gave her a tight smile.

"How are your legs feeling? I noticed you're putting more weight on them." She frowned at his obvious change of subject, but answered his questions. Several times during the hour, Mac tried to talk about her father and the date, but he steered the conversation back to her training instead. Trying to keep it professional yet friendly was exhausting. He adored Mac, but if Dean was regretting their night together, Castiel would need to put his walls back up and keep his distance... and unfortunately, that pertained to Dean's child as well. He couldn't...  _wouldn't_ let himself be hurt like this again.

He walked her to the lobby and noted that Dean was still on the phone and pacing. He looked up and smiled distractedly, then held up a finger indicating he wanted Castiel to wait. In a childish display of anger, Castiel said goodbye to Mac and escaped to his office as quickly as his feet would carry him.

He thought Dean was different.  _Once a player, always a player_ , he thought ruefully. He leaned against his office door and stared up at the ceiling, desperate for answers to questions he didn't know how to ask. The knob rattled and he felt the door move against his back. 

"Cas... Let me in." It was Dean. What could he possibly want? "Cas, come on..." His voice was softer as if he was leaning against the door. Castiel stepped back and the door fell open. Dean stood rooted to the spot. Neither of them moved or spoke for several seconds. "I know it seemed like I was ignoring you..." 

Castiel stared back at him, his face schooled in a blank expression. Dean rubbed the back of his neck and took a tentative step toward him. His first instinct was to retreat, but he held firm as he waited to for Dean to explain his actions. Maybe his behavior wasn't about regret...

"Sam called just as we were coming into the building. Someone broke into his bar last night. They busted things up and stole a bunch of booze... All the good stuff. He was pissed and needed to vent. I just got him off the phone when Bobby called. He got wind of a coaching position opening up at Texas A&M... and fuck, I'm rambling. Then you walked off... I think I know why you're upset, but I'd rather hear it from you." 

Castiel processed Dean's words and all he could voice in return was a question plaguing his mind. "Are you going to take it?"

Dean looked at him in confusion. "Take what?"

"The coaching job."

"That's the  _last_ thing on my mind, Cas." He took another step. "Tell me what was bothering you."

He tilted his head and studied Dean carefully. The man was clearly upset... and his concern seemed genuine. "I'm not mad. I just thought..." Castiel trailed off, suddenly ashamed that he had rushed to judge Dean so harshly. He could at least be honest. "I was excited to see you and when you didn't reciprocate, I was afraid that—"

"What? That I changed my mind all of a sudden? Cas, that's not gonna happen." Dean's eyes held all the truth of his declaration and a warm smile spread across Castiel's face. Dean grinned back at him as he reached for Castiel's hand, pulling him closer until their faces were inches apart. "I don't want anything to mess this up, Cas. I only want to be with you." 

It was almost a whisper... so soft and sweet, Castiel was taken aback at the unexpected gentleness of Dean's tone. He closed his eyes and let his kiss communicate what he was feeling. The vulnerable sound Dean made was Castiel's undoing and his arms tightened. "I want you so much," he whispered as his lips drifted over Dean's jaw and up to his ear. "Always," he growled quietly, and he could feel his lover practically melt against him. 

The sound of a throat clearing broke them apart. Castiel turned to see Meg leaning against the doorjamb. "You should shut the door... innocent eyes and all that." She smirked when Dean blushed the sweetest shade of pink. "Speaking of which, your daughter is out in the lobby, presently conspiring with Gabriel."

"Yeah... I should probably get her home," Dean nodded to Meg. As he was leaving, he looked back over his shoulder, his face a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance at the interruption. "See you tonight, Cas."

When he was gone, Castiel met his partner's eyes. "Not one fucking word, Meg." 

"My lips are sealed,  _Cas_."

He had to admit, he expected worse from Mac. Sure, she asked about the date and questioned his mood, but she didn't push. He couldn't share the epiphany he had about loving Cas... not with his daughter and definitely not before he told Cas. That wouldn't be cool. 

Dean made pancakes and over breakfast, Mac brought up the subject of the date again, but he steered the conversation to other things. When it was time for them to leave, Dean was hit with the realization that he had once again missed a major milestone in his daughter's life. The hated wheelchair was gone and it wouldn't be long until she was back at school. Mac could walk again and it was all thanks to Cas.

They left Charlie at the house to update Dean's social media and headed to the clinic for Mac's appointment. He was looking forward to seeing Cas, even if the doctor was working. He hoped they might be able to sneak away for a few minutes...

As they neared the door, his phone started playing the chorus of  _Heat of the Moment_ , which was Sam's ringtone. "Hey, Sammy... can I call you back in a few? We just got to the clinic for Mac's appointment."

"Yeah, fine." Sam sounded angry and Dean knew he had to find out what was wrong. 

"Okay, go ahead. Talk to me," he said quickly.

"The bar was broken into last night." Dean stopped in his tracks a few feet from the door. 

"Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?" Mac looked alarmed, so he mouthed everything was okay and opened the door for her. 

"I'm fine. It was after closing, so there wasn't anyone here. They trashed the place and made off with all the top shelf liquor. It's a fucking mess." He saw Cas standing at the reception desk, and motioned Mac to go on without him. He'd catch up once he got more information from his brother. Sam's bar was a popular spot in downtown Austin and while Dean was relieved no one was hurt, he was pissed that his brother was the victim of a such a senseless crime.

"Okay, take a deep breath. I know you're stressing out right now, but you have insurance. What did the cops say?"

"They think it was just some kids being stupid. They found a few fingerprints and plan on comparing them to my staff to rule them out as suspects. I'm going to be down at least a week, Dean. That's a lot of lost revenue... not to mention the income all my servers will lose while we're closed." Leave it to Sam to worry about everyone else. Dean could picture his brother raking fingers through his long hair, something he always did when he was upset.

"Listen, once Mac's appointment is done, I can drop her back at the house and come lend a hand." It would mean missing his dinner date with Cas, but Sammy was in trouble and it was Dean's job to help him.

"No," Sam said adamantly. "You were just gone for two weeks. Mac needs you more than I do right now. I've got the staff and my cleaning crew coming in this afternoon once the cops finish up. I'm good, I promise," he said, like he was expecting Dean to argue. He felt like he should press the issue, but Sam was right... Mac needed him here. 

"Fine, you win. But if you need anything... money to cover the deductible or whatever... call me."

Sam laughed at that, since the bar made a ton of money. "I've got it covered, Dean." There was a pause and then Sam said, "Thanks for listening to me rant about it... and thanks for being there for me."

"No problem, Sammy. That's what I'm here for." They talked a while longer and Sam gave him more details about the robbery. When he finally hung up, he checked the time and saw that he'd been on the phone for almost thirty minutes. He still had time to see Mac swim. He didn't want to miss it.

He was halfway across the lobby when Bobby called. He thought about ignoring it, but he couldn't bring himself to disrespect his mentor that way. Bobby was the one who believed in Dean when he was just a scrawny kid from Kansas all those years ago. "Hey, son, I just got a call from Texas A&M. Seems they heard about your retirement, and they apparently have a head coach position open. Their baseball program could use someone like you."

"That's a few hours from Dallas, Bobby. I don't want to uproot—"

"Austin," Bobby interrupted. "You live in Austin." Dean found a peaceful photograph of a waterfall on the lobby wall and tried to concentrate.

"Yeah... Austin. That's what I meant."  _But did he?_  Cas was in Dallas. The clinic was here... not that Mac would need it once she was cleared. Even so, Cas couldn't just walk away from everything he'd built, and Dean would never ask him to. Now that Dean wasn't part of the team anymore, there was nothing anchoring him to Austin. Mac would have a say in it, though. Fuck, what was he doing? He and Cas barely knew each other. The thought was like a punch in the gut and he regretted it immediately. He did know Cas... almost better than anyone. They just hadn't known each other for very long. 

"It's just something to think about, kid. You can't sit on your lazy ass forever." Dean's mind was too preoccupied to laugh at Bobby's humor.

"I have time to figure it out, Bobby. Mac is walking and swimming a little, but she still has a long way to go." Dean wasn't sure if that was completely true. Cas hadn't really given any indication that Mac was nearing the end of her treatment. 

"You tell her that Uncle Bobby loves and misses her. How's she doing?"

"She's good... probably better than I would be if the situation was reversed." The doors opened and Mac came out escorted by Cas. He held up a finger asking Cas to wait, but he looked angry and turned abruptly and disappeared. What the hell was that about? This wasn't supposed to happen... he loved Cas. He was finally in love for the first time in his whole fucking life...

Mac, hair still wet from her swim, looked at the closed door and then back at Dean. "Mac, have a seat. I'll be right back." He was going to get to the bottom of this. If Cas regretted last night, he sure had a shitty way of showing it. The morning had been great and now this? No. If he wanted to dump Dean, he'd have to nut up and...  _shit_. This wasn't on Cas... this was on him. He thought back to Cas' bright and happy smile when they first walked in. Dean had been so absorbed in what Sam was saying, he didn't even acknowledge him.  _Fuck_.

Ruby yelled for him to stop, but Dean ignored her and hit the double doors with both hands. He ran down the hall to Cas' office, a man on a mission. The door was closed and he tried the knob. It turned, but something was keeping it from opening. "Cas... Let me in."

He could sense Cas' presence on the other side. "Cas, come on," he said softly, his forehead resting against the wood. He didn't care who saw. 

Dean heard a shuffling sound and the door swung open from his weight pressed against it. He took in Cas' expression. It wasn't angry... it was guarded, with a hint of heartbreak making its way through the barrier. He had to fix it, but he didn't know how. Cas had to know that Dean was in this for the long haul. "I know it seemed like I was ignoring you..." Everything poured out in a rush. "Then you walked off... I think I know why you're upset, but I'd rather hear it from you."

Castiel didn't speak for a few seconds and Dean's heart sank, but then he spoke. "Are you going to take it?"

 "Take what?" What was he asking? Dean racked his brain for an answer. He needed to get this right.

"The coaching job."

He wanted to laugh but thought better of it. Truthfully, all Dean could think about was wiping that hurt look off Cas' face, and the man was asking about the stupid fucking job. He couldn't care less about baseball right now. "That's the  _last_ thing on my mind, Cas." Dean stepped close enough to smell the chlorine in Cas' damp hair. "Tell me what was bothering you."

Cas did his adorable head tilt that reminded Dean of a puppy. He appeared to be examining Dean, trying to work something out. Then he relaxed a little and started talking...  _finally_. 

"I'm not mad. I just thought..." Dean held his breath while he waited for Cas' next words. He looked almost regretful. "I was excited to see you and when you didn't reciprocate, I was afraid that—"

"What? That I changed my mind all of a sudden? Cas, that's not gonna happen." Dean tried to pour all his conviction into his gaze so Cas could see how much he meant it. Then Cas smiled and Dean felt everything inside him grow warmer. He couldn't have kept the grin off his face if his life depended on it. He reached for Cas' hand and drew him closer. Dean was pretty sure Cas understood, but he felt the need to drive the point home. "I don't want anything to mess this up, Cas. I only want to be with you." 

Then they were kissing and all was right in the world... until Cas' partner, Meg, made her presence known. It was embarrassing to be caught making out in Cas' office while Mac was in the waiting room, but he enjoyed it far too much to leave any room for remorse. He called out a goodbye as he walked away, happy in the knowledge that he would be seeing Cas again in just a few hours.

As Meg had informed him, Mac and Gabe were in the lobby with their heads pressed together conspiratorially. As soon as they saw him, they started laughing at something Dean didn't want to know about. Gabe hugged Mac goodbye and whispered something, but Dean didn't press her about it when they settled into the car. As strange as their friendship was, Dean respected it. If it was important, Mac would tell him. "Hey, Dad... are you and Cas okay?" 

Dean looked over at her and then focused on the road in front of him. "Yeah, Princess. It's all good." He waited a beat and then told her about their dinner plans. She seemed really excited about it and by the time they got back to the house, both of them were relaxed and looking forward to their evening.

Later on, after a ridiculous montage of outfits, Mac was dragging him out the door. "Come on, we don't want to be late."

"Mac, his house isn't that far away. We have plenty of time," Dean assured her. He was rewarded with an exact replica of Sam's bitchface, so he shut his mouth and followed her out the door. 

"Shouldn't you bring wine? Or maybe chocolates?"

"You can't see me because I'm driving, but I'm rolling my eyes at you right now. Just like you do when you think I've said something stupid." Stony silence filled the car. He huffed. "Okay, from now on, you are forbidden to watch rom-coms. You take them  _way_  too seriously." He drove toward the glaring lights of a grocery store and parked. "I suppose you want to go in and pick something out," he asked, facing her.

Her angelic smile told him she was satisfied that she'd won. "No, Daddy. I trust you to have good taste," she responded sweetly, already taking out her phone to pass the time. 

"Keep the doors locked and don't talk to strangers," he said sternly. Inside the store, he looked up and found the signs for the beer and wine aisle. He stared at the rows and rows of bottles. He wasn't a big wine drinker and definitely not a connoisseur by any means. He knew the basics... red was paired with beef and Italian, blah, blah, blah... none of that mattered if he didn't know what Cas was cooking. He abruptly turned and strode purposefully toward the beer. 

Decision made, he strode to the front of the store to check out, a six-pack of a local IPA in hand. On the way, he passed the candy aisle and snagged a bag of Hersey's Kisses to appease his kid. Mac grimaced at the beer but nodded in approval at his choice of chocolate. He had a feeling her show of support was more for her own benefit than anything else. 

Dean parked in Cas' driveway, his heart fluttering against his ribcage. He wasn't exactly nervous... he just felt excited to spend time with Cas and Mac together, outside the sterile environment of the clinic. Having dinner together meant something... it felt important. As he pressed the doorbell, he glanced at his daughter and saw that she shared his excitement. This was going to be awesome. 

Castiel now knew what the phrase 'roller coaster of emotions' felt like. He'd gone from elation over his night with Dean to the warmth of being in love, then plummeted to the depths of despair when he thought Dean didn't want him anymore. Now, here he was climbing to the top of that hill again, exhilaration coursing through his veins, knowing he'd be seeing Dean in another hour.

The tenderloin was in a clay baker, already in the oven. Everything else was prepped and ready to go. He walked through the house and, when he saw the newest addition to his entertainment center, decided that he had the best brother in the world. A new Xbox One and a stack of games now occupied the empty space next to his DVR. Thankfully, Gabriel brought Kevin along to set the system up. 

When they dropped by half an hour ago, Gabriel said it would give the kid something to do while the old folks snuck away to make out. Castiel hadn't even thought about having alone time with Dean while Mac was here... which was precisely why he gave Gabriel the honor of being the best sibling one could possibly have. 

With one last look around the kitchen, Castiel went to his bedroom to shower and change. As he washed off the antiseptic smell of the clinic, he tried to recall if he'd ever socialized with a patient before and he couldn't think of a single instance. Now, he was about to welcome one into his home... but Mac was much more than just another file and diagnosis. She had worked her way into Castiel's heart before he even started dating her father. 

After dressing in jeans and a light blue button-down, he went back to the kitchen to wait. He sipped a glass of merlot while he puttered around. The dining room table was set and he stared at it for a few seconds, trying to pinpoint why it seemed wrong. "Shit..."

Ten minutes later, the plates and flatware were on the smaller table in his breakfast nook and the formal dining room's lights were off. He wasn't out to impress them. He wanted Dean and Mac to be part of his life... and his life was  _not_ fancy china and linen tablecloths.

The doorbell rang and he squared his shoulders before answering. He didn't want to appear nervous. He opened the door and his gaze was immediately drawn to Dean. There was a sparkle in his eyes and that smile... it took Castiel's breath away. "Hello, Dean... Mac. Please, come in."

Dean stood aside so Mac could negotiate the entry with her walker. When she was inside, he stepped forward and placed a light kiss on Castiel's lips. "Hey, babe." Castiel took note of the endearment, remembering the way Dean called him  _babe_  in bed last night. Hearing it in this setting, with Mac only a few feet away, made all his doubts from earlier in the day nothing more than a distant memory.

"You have an Xbox?" Mac questioned from the living room. Dean raised a brow and Castiel shrugged.

"You can thank Gabriel for that. He said you might get bored with us 'old folks' around." As soon as he used the air quotes, he felt self-conscious. Bart told him he looked stupid when he did that. He glanced quickly at Dean to see if he thought so too, but Dean was grinning and he took Castiel's hand and lifted it, lightly brushing the back with his lips. He felt his pulse quicken and met Dean's eyes long enough to see a brief flash of desire there.

"While Mac checks out the games, why don't you show me to your fridge?"

"My fridge?" Castiel didn't get it until Dean held up a plastic grocery bag, the outline of a six-pack visible. "Oh... it's this way." He tugged gently on Dean's hand and led him to the kitchen.

"Damn, Cas... this is awesome," Dean said, taking in the large room. Castiel looked around, proud of the total remodel he completed right after he bought the house. He viewed the granite countertops, the professional quality appliances, and the warm color palette through Dean's eyes. Then he thanked Dean for the compliment and showed him some of the improvements that were done during the renovation. Dean plunked the bag on the island and pulled Castiel close. This time, their kiss held more passion and Castiel sank into it, his hands sliding around Dean's waist like the motion was already second nature.

"Gross." Both men sprang apart. Instead of looking disgusted, Mac's expression was impish. "If you guys are going to make out, at least feed me first." Dean laughed and ruffled her hair, causing her to slap his hand away. Still smiling, Dean took the beer out of the bag and put it in the fridge.

"Dinner has about twenty more minutes, Mac. You're more than welcome to watch TV or play a video game. Feel free to make yourself at home here and let me know if you need anything."

"Awesome," she said and left them alone again.  _Awesome... must be a Winchester thing_ , he thought affectionately.

"We should have been more careful. I apologize, Dean." 

"What? Why? Dude, you'll get used to the nosy little squirt soon enough. I always believed that kids ought to see their parents showing how much they—" He stopped abruptly and dropped his head to stare at the crumpled bag on the island. "She wasn't upset. Trust me, if she was bothered by it, we'd know." Castiel couldn't help wondering what Dean was about to say before he cut himself off. Dean put on a sideways grin as he pulled out a package of chocolate kisses. "Mac has a sweet tooth. I thought these were appropriate," he said with a lascivious wink that made Castiel laugh.

"I didn't plan any dessert tonight, so these will have to do," he said, deftly snatching the package from Dean's hand. He made a show of trying to get it back, which led to a fit of laughter followed by yet another lingering kiss. He could live an entire lifetime and then some, and he would never get tired of kissing this man.

As he finished the dinner preparations, Dean kept a running commentary of foods he liked. "You know, just in case you want to get in my pants again." Castiel laughed at the man's audacity and shook his head. Their conversation was interspersed with the electronic sounds coming from the living room.

The dinner itself was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. The Novak family dinners were calm and icy at best... this couldn't have been more of a dichotomy. Mac and Dean went from good-natured teasing to boisterous debates that weren't the least bit hostile. Occasionally, one or both of them would bring Castiel into the fray and he'd be forced to take a side. Dean had the cutest pout whenever Castiel agreed with Mac instead of him.

Both of the Winchesters raved about his cooking and he promised to have them over again soon, which naturally transitioned to talk of Thanksgiving. First, he had Dean send a text to his extended family to invite them, and he promised to provide a final head count as soon as possible. Then the conversation became entirely about the food. In the end, Castiel had to open his notepad app to jot down all the dishes they requested. "Dean, you've listed six different types of pie. We need to narrow it down to your favorites."

Mac and Dean stared at him blankly. Finally, Dean gave an exaggerated sigh and took the iPhone from Castiel's hand, holding it close to his chest like he was guarding it. "Cas, babe..." He turned to his daughter and made an encouraging gesture. "Tell him, Mac."

"Dad has a thing for pie. It's sacred and forms a path straight to his heart. Telling him to choose a favorite is... is...  _blasphemy_." Dean nodded in agreement, his face set in a serious mask. 

Castiel took his phone back. "Well I wouldn't dream of insulting your religion. Six pies it is."

"See, Daddy? It's a match made in heaven. You love to eat and Cas can cook." Castiel felt his face heat and he stood up, placing his phone back in his pocket. He hoped Mac's matchmaking didn't make Dean feel pressured or uncomfortable. He risked a glance at Dean to check, but all he could see was open amusement and...  _happiness_. 

They insisted on helping with the clean-up despite his protests. Mac was parked on a stool putting the leftovers into plastic containers as she hummed an unfamiliar tune. Castiel was just closing the dishwasher when he heard a whooshing sound a split-second before the tip of a towel bit into his asscheek. He yelped and whipped around to find Dean with his hands behind his back, looking way too innocent. Mac had her hand over her mouth stifling a giggle. In retaliation, Castiel grabbed the bag of Kisses and eyed them both. "Mine." 

"Oh, no you don't." Dean tossed the towel aside and tried to corner Castiel. Mac was openly laughing now. He held the candy behind his back and Dean wrapped his arms around him, attempting to dislodge the bag from his grip. 

"Trade a kiss for a Kiss, Daddy," Mac called out. 

Dean winked at him. "Good idea, Princess." His hands came to rest on Castiel's chest. "How 'bout it, Cas? A kiss for a Kiss?"

"I could never refuse such a tempting offer," he answered seriously and brought the bag up between them. Dean smiled and brushed his lips over Castiel's. 

"Hey, don't forget the poor gimp over here. Chocolate's healthy for my growing bones," Mac interjected, her voice confident and self-assured. Castiel looked over at her, one hand resting on Dean's hip. 

"I can assure you, Mackenzie... in all my years of medical school, chocolate was  _never_ used for medicinal purposes."

"I don't think that's accurate. You should ask them to refund your tuition," she deadpanned. Castiel blinked a few times and then cracked up, unable to hold back his laughter. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, but she was able to hold back her giggles a little longer before finally giving in.

The kiss exchange began and the pile of foil wrappers grew on the countertop. Finally, Dean patted his belly and groaned. "I've got to stop, man."

"Quitter," Castiel retorted, popping another Kiss into his mouth. Mac held up her hand for a high-five and he was happy to oblige. Dean leveled them with a mock look of betrayal.

Mac picked up the last remaining Kiss and carefully slid off the stool. "I'm going to go kill some zombies. You guys can go do adult stuff." 

"Mac," Dean yelped, his voice much higher than usual.

"Jeez, Dad... not  _that_ kind of stuff. You're nasty." She was still shaking her head when she disappeared around the corner. Dean looked over at him sheepishly.

"I agree... you're  _nasty_ ," Castiel growled, prowling toward his boyfriend with a predatory grin.

"I'll show you nasty," Dean replied with a leer. His hands were on Castiel's ass before he could react. Chest to chest, they looked into each other's eyes, the air suddenly thick between them. Dean's smile faded. "Cas, I... " He paused and lifted his palms to cup Castiel's face, thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones. "This is crazy."

"What is," Castiel asked softly. 

"The way I feel about you," Dean whispered, his voice hoarse. Castiel waited for a kiss that never came. Instead, Dean dropped his hands and stepped back. "So... are we gonna go watch Mac kill some zombies?"

Not wanting to upset the fragile hold Dean seemed to have on his emotions, Castiel shook his head. "No, I thought we could sit on the deck. It's such a lovely night."

"Sure," he nodded, his eyes averted. Castiel wasn't sure what was going on inside Dean's head, but he had a pretty good idea. Dean didn't want distance right now, he wanted space... there was a difference. Castiel led the way through the dark dining room and opened the set of French doors to the deck. He stepped outside and flipped a switch. Several small lanterns turned on, illuminating the night just enough to make out the patio furniture. He chose a glider and sat, Dean plopping down on the seat next to him. They rocked back and forth in silence for a few minutes. "It's peaceful out here," Dean finally said.

"That's why I bought this house. It was in bad shape and needed ground-to-attic renovations... but the land is quite beautiful." He pointed to the south, the lights of Dallas visible in the distance. "I'm close enough to the city to be downtown in thirty minutes, but I've also got five acres of grass and trees... I even have deer that come up to the house occasionally."

"Country living in the city," Dean said quietly.

"Yes." Cas responded. They needed to talk. Castiel took Dean's hand and let his thumb rub over the knuckles. "This evening has been incredible, Dean. I've never..." He paused to collect his thoughts. "I don't know what it's like to have a real family here in my home. I never even tried to fantasize about it because I don't have any personal experience to draw from. That said... I can easily picture a future here with you and Mac. She's special to me... I hope you know that."

"I do... Fuck, you're making this whole thing too damn easy, Cas," he whispered ruefully, pulling his hand away to run it through his hair.

"I don't understand." Castiel frowned. What was Dean trying to say?

"This.  _Us_. You, the perfect boyfriend." Dean stood and walked over to the railing, his hands resting on the wood as he stared off into the distance. Castiel stayed put and waited, knowing Dean had more to say. He took a deep breath, then turned back to meet Castiel's eyes. "I can picture a future here, too... and that scares the shit out of me."

Castiel nodded his understanding, then rose up to close the gap between them. He clasped Dean's hand and felt the tension drain from both of them at the contact. "I have the same fears, Dean. My... my feelings for you..." Castiel couldn't find the words to communicate what he was feeling. He knew what he was longing to say, but if he said it now, Dean might bolt. He started over. "I have  _very_ strong feelings for you." He felt Dean's hand tighten around his fingers.

"Ditto," Dean said, nudging his shoulder. Castiel smiled, knowing that was all they both needed... at least for now. His mind shifted to the next topic he wanted to discuss and he felt himself tense. Dean noticed and quirked a questioning eyebrow.

"I uh... wanted to talk to you about something else, too." Dean turned his body to face him. "I haven't had this conversation with anyone in years... and I've only done this once, so bear with me. I have the results of my latest physical in my desk drawer... my STD panel along with it." 

"Oh," Dean said, his tone indicating his surprise at the unexpected change of topic.

"I know we've only been together once, but I..." Castiel blew out a nervous breath. "I want us to be exclusive and I don't want anything between us." The last few words came out in a rush, but he did it. He put his desires on the table.

"Wait... do you mean no condoms?" It was a rhetorical question, so Castiel left it unanswered. He watched as Dean's eyes widened in understanding, then grew dark as he swallowed thickly. "Um... I know everyone on the team had a mandatory physical right before the Series, but I'm not sure if they did  _that_. I didn't ask to see the results... I figured they'd tell me if I had any problems." He gave a soft bark of laughter. "Guess you can't do those tests at the clinic, huh?"

Castiel smiled. "We do have a lab, but I think it would be unethical for me to... to do that for you." Dean's responding giggle made Castiel frown. "What?"

"We sound like a couple of teenagers, Cas. Talking about sex shouldn't make us this nervous. I'll put in a call to the team's medical staff and see if they tested for STDs. If not, I'll find a doctor and get it done." Dean's hands moved to rest on Castiel's waist and he licked his lips. "We're definitely on the same page, though. I want to feel you... with nothing in the way."

Castiel wasn't sure who moved first, but they came together, mouths and hands exploring with unhurried motions. They kissed and talked... and kissed some more, never allowing an inch of space between their bodies. He almost felt like a teenager whose parents were just inside... only in this case, it was Mac on the other side of the glass doors. Then Dean pulled away and Castiel made a small whine of protest at the loss. "Cas, I want you to know... I haven't slept with anyone in a long time... except for you, I mean."

He drew back to look at Dean's earnest face. "The tabloids made you out to be a..." Castiel bit his lip before he could say something insulting.

Dean laughed again. "A slut? Yeah, I know... Believe me, I've heard it all. Full disclosure, I wasn't a saint... not even close. But when Mac's accident happened and I met you... God, even when you hated me, I had no desire to be with anyone else. Couldn't get you out of my mind." 

Castiel's hand slid up Dean's thigh. "I wanted you the moment I saw you... and I hated myself for it." He chuckled lightly, his hand coming to rest on Dean's round ass. "I'm glad you didn't give up on me."

"Never..." Dean's mouth covered his own and he parted his lips in surrender. The kiss was mostly playful, but it held the promise of more heated things to come. With a Herculean effort to restrain themselves, they reluctantly parted, hungry hands still moving over rumpled clothing. "I should get Mac home."

"Yes, that would be the responsible thing to do," Castiel smirked before leaning in for another kiss... and then another... Finally, Dean growled and took two steps back, dropping his hands at his sides. 

"You're driving me crazy, Cas." Dean moved to hold the door open and Castiel sauntered past him, unable to resist stealing just one more kiss from Dean's perfect lips.


	14. Chapter 14

"What?" Dean glanced over at Mac then returned his eyes to the road. She was staring at him and kept smiling... it was unnerving.  

"Nothing. I've just never seen you like this before," Mac answered, her expression gleeful. 

"Like what?" Dean looked down at himself like he expected to see whatever she was talking about. 

"Like you're in love." Her words echoed in the car. All Dean could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He didn't know what to say to that. His first instinct was to deny it, but that would be a lie and he promised never to lie to his daughter. So he remained silent, which was the same as an admission as far as Mac was concerned. She started clapping her hands. "Oh my god, I knew it," she squealed. "You are totally in love with Cas. I was kind of worried when that thing happened at the clinic today... but it's fixed now and you guys look so.... in  _love_." She drew out the last word like the pre-teen she was. 

"Mac... stop. Please." His voice was quiet and calmer than he felt. She went still and started staring at him again, but this time it was more like an examination. He fidgeted and gripped the steering wheel tighter.  

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She played with the hem of her shirt, her eyes fixed on her lap.  _Crap_. He didn't want her to feel bad about being happy for him and Cas. She had every right to be excited. 

"No, Mac... I'm the one who's sorry. I was just freakin' out a little, but that's not on you." 

"Freaking out? Why? You've  _never_ been this happy before, Dad. If Cas is the one who makes you feel that way, isn't that all that matters?"  

Dean pulled into the driveway and parked, then switched off the ignition and paused to let that sink in. It all sounded so simple when Mac said it. She wasn't wrong... Cas reallydid make him happy and for the first time in his life, being with someone felt  _right_. True, he hadn't known Cas for long, but he couldn't imagine life without him now. He felt Mac's hand resting on his and looked over at her, face radiating understanding and wisdom beyond her years. How did he get so lucky? 

"You know what, Mac? You're absolutely right." He grinned and gave her hand a squeeze. "Come on, let's get inside. It's late and you've got an appointment in the morning."   

Mac didn't move right away. She was squinting at him, trying to assess whether or not he was being genuine. Apparently, she liked what she saw because the next thing Dean knew, she was flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely. "I love you, Daddy. And I'm glad we found Cas."  

"I love you too, Princess." With one final squeeze, he released her and exited the car. After helping her inside, Dean took out his phone to send Cas a text. It was late, but he didn't care.  

 **Text from Dean/9:03PM – Thanks for dinner, Cas. Mac and I had a great time. Want to do lunch tomorrow after her appt?**  

 **Text from Cas/9:05PM – Sounds perfect. I'll invite Gabriel, if that's okay.**  

 **Text from Dean/9:08PM – Sure. The more, the merrier ;-)**  

 **Text from Cas/9:10PM – See you tomorrow. Goodnight, Dean. X**  

 **Text from Dean/9:11PM – Night, Cas. XX**  

The next day dawned bright without a cloud in the sky. It was perfect weather for a picnic and after texting Cas his idea, it was settled. After Mac's appointment, Gabriel would bring lunch and they would eat out by the stables. He had to admit, he was looking forward to seeing the horses, even if he wasn't too keen on riding them.  

Dean went back with Mac to see her swim and the girl was like a boss. Except for the occasional use of the walker, she seemed back to normal. Cas must have noticed because he invited them both into his office to talk about Mac's progress. It was hard to rein in his excitement... all Dean wanted was for his little girl to live a life without limits. 

"As you can see, Mac is much stronger than she was a month ago," Cas said in his professional voice. Dean tried not to get distracted by how incredibly sexy it was. "The MRI we did last week indicates that her injuries have healed almost completely. I think it's time to discuss the next phase of treatment." 

Mac was holding Dean's hand a little too tightly. She was obviously nervous about getting her hopes up. Dean could relate. Cas opened the calendar on his computer and squinted in concentration. God, the man was too damn cute...   

"I think we can cut down to appointments three times per week... as long as you're doing some type of approved physical activity on your off days. Swimming is preferable, but we can explore other options if—" 

"No, no... swimming is great," Mac interrupted. "I don't know anyone here, but I can call Coach Ellen and see if she can recommend someone. What do you think, Dad?"  

"I think I'm proud of you, baby girl." He pulled her into a hug, then let go when he sensed her rolling her eyes. "You tell me what you want and I'll make it happen. If you want to get back to training, I'm all for it... as long as Cas says it's okay." He turned to find the doctor eyeing them both fondly and his heart skipped a beat.   

"Yes, it's time we got Mac back to doing what she loves." Cas picked up his phone and dialed an extension. "Ruby, please update Mackenzie's schedule to three times a week... just cancel all the appointments on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Thank you." He hung up the phone and stood, signaling the end of their meeting. Mac was on her feet and hugging him before he even made it to the door. 

"Thank you, Cas," she whispered. He folded his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. 

"You're welcome, Mac." He looked up and Dean was surprised by his expression. He looked completely enamored... like he'd rather be right here than anywhere else in the world. Dean closed the space and wrapped both of them up in his embrace. They stood there for a while just savoring the moment, then broke apart when Mac sniffed. Always prepared, Cas brandished a tissue and handed it to her.  

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur. Between Mac's appointments, meeting her new swim coach for training, and a few trips to Austin to check in with Sam and stop by the house, there wasn't much time for him and Cas. They still managed to steal a few kisses here and there at Mac's appointments, but it wasn't nearly enough and the strain was wearing Dean thin. He needed Cas and he wasn't afraid to admit it. 

At some point, he managed to get ahold of the team's physician regarding his test results. It turns out, they did a full STD panel on all the players and Dean was in the clear. He couldn't wait to tell Cas, but he held off until he was sure they would get to see each other. Anything else would just be cruel. With Charlie's scheduling update still echoing in his ears, he dialed Cas' number.  

"Hello, Dean," Cas answered in his deep, gravelly voice. God, he would never get tired of hearing it. 

"Hey, Cas. I was wondering if we could do something tonight. Charlie just told me her Thanksgiving plans got cancelled and she can stay and watch Mac... overnight if I want." He left the unspoken promise dangling in the air. 

"Fuck yes... I mean, uh—" Cas' reaction had Dean roaring with laughter. He was relieved to hear that he wasn't the only one feeling desperate. 

"Wow, Cas... such language. I think I'm rubbing off on you," he teased. 

"Yes to that, too," Cas quipped. He was batting a thousand today. Dean was smiling so hard it almost hurt. "Does that mean Charlie will be joining us for dinner tomorrow? It's fine if she is. We've got plenty of food." 

"Yeah, she said food is the only payment she'll accept for childcare services." He hesitated, trying to figure out a graceful way to bring up the real reason he called. "I don't have any STDs," he blurted out. He winced at his lack of smoothness and subtlety. Oh well...  

"You... what?" Cas sounded choked.  

"I talked to the team doctor today. According to my recent physical, I'm clean. Just thought you should know that in case we... I mean, if you still want to..."  

"I do. I want to... very much." The tension in his voice had taken on a dark, sensuous tone and Dean felt his dick twitch in response. He glanced at the time... it was only two o'clock.  

"You want to go somewhere for dinner... around six?" 

"Sure. Does my place work for you?" There was no mistaking Cas' meaning. Dean felt a thrill of anticipation run down his spine knowing they were on the same page.  

"Hell yeah," he said, a little too enthusiastically.  

"Good. Oh, and since you're coming over, you can help me prep the food for tomorrow," Cas teased.  

"Mmmm... sexy," Dean said dryly. "You do realize I can't cook, right?" 

"I'm sure you have other talents to contribute," Cas growled, his tone low and  _hot as fuck_. Dean wasn't going to make it four more hours... not without jerking off at least once. If he didn't, sex would be over far too quickly. 

"Jesus, Cas... your voice is a damn menace."  

They said their goodbyes and Dean hopped in the shower. The water was hotter than usual and Dean allowed the heat to sink into his too-sensitive flesh. He took himself in hand and imagined what it would feel like to be inside Cas... skin-to-skin... warm and tight around his cock.  He leaned back against the tiles as he hardened. It didn't take long to get himself off, his cum leaving streaks down the wall.  _Holy shit_. When his heart rate returned to normal, he turned off the water and toweled off, still buzzing from both his orgasm and the thought of being with Cas without a condom.  

Cleaned and dressed, Dean went to join Mac on the couch. They watched a marathon of Captain America movies on cable but kept making jokes about the odd choice for holiday programming. Halfway through The Winter Soldier, Charlie joined them and commented that Chris Evans' butt was something  _everyone_  should be grateful for. Dean and Mac laughed, both nodding in enthusiastic agreement. It wasn't a bad way to spend an afternoon and was the perfect distraction from the impending date night with Cas. 

Before he knew it, Dean was standing on Cas' porch, his finger poised to ring the doorbell. He took a steadying breath and pressed the button, his stomach clenching with nerves. The door opened and Cas beamed at the sight of him, then drew Dean in for a kiss that was sweet and sensuous in equal measure. He felt his anxiety drift away as he melted into everything Cas was giving him. He had no reason to be nervous... it was  _Cas_. They reluctantly pulled back at the sound of the oven timer going off. "You can put your bag in my room," he said, gesturing to the duffle Dean was carrying. 

He stepped over the threshold and the smell of something sweet and delicious filled his nostrils. He would know that aroma anywhere... 

"Mmm... pie...." He almost cracked up at himself... he sounded like Homer Simpson with donuts. 

"No. That's for dinner tomorrow... hands  _off_ ," Cas said sternly. 

"Hands off, huh? You sure about that?" Dean stroked his free hand over Cas' chest and moved down... down... down... then snapped his fingers and jerked his hand back before he got to Cas' pants. "Oops, sorry. Hands off." Cas' growl of protest was hilarious and Dean backed away, not breaking eye contact until he got to the hallway that led to Cas' bedroom.   

He tossed his bag on the bed and looked around the room, memories of that night coming back in vivid detail. The soft glow of the candles... the taste and smell of Cas' skin... the feel of Cas' body moving in perfect rhythm with his own. He sighed wistfully and turned off the light. Soon... 

Cas was mixing something in a bowl when Dean entered the kitchen. Four pies rested on the island and his mouth watered at the temptation. "Come on, Cas... just let me have one piece. One little piece," he begged, practically whining. Cas kept working and ignoring his plight. "I'll blow you... twice." 

Cas continued stirring, but he looked up, one eyebrow raised. Damn, that was sexy as hell. Dean laid it on thick and brandished his cutest smile, complete with puppy-dog eyes. Unimpressed, Cas gave a hint of a smirk and went back to his task. "Really, Dean... trading sexual favors for food is beneath you." 

"Not just any food, babe...  _pie_." Dean slid behind Cas and pressed against him. "So... is that a no?"   

"That's a no," Cas answered firmly, but he lifted the spoon out of the bowl and offered it to Dean in consolation. The explosion of flavors on his tongue was amazing... apples, cinnamon, and sugar... it was heavenly and Dean moaned softly. Cas' eyes darkened and he withdrew the spoon, pointing it at a Chinese menu on the opposite counter. "I haven't done anything for dinner. How does Chinese sound? You could order while I finish this." 

Dean's lips curled upward. Cas was definitely horny... with a little effort from Dean, both dinner and the pie would be forgotten. But that would mean having to leave the bed later to eat. Plus, Cas seemed to be the organized type, so he would want to finish the damn pie. Sighing inwardly, Dean decided it would be better to postpone the best part of the evening until later. He leaned down to give Cas a light peck on the back of his neck, then stepped away to pick up the menu.  

"What do you want? I love Moo Shu Pork," Dean volunteered as he skimmed the contents. 

"I'm not picky... just get a variety and we can share everything. Make sure you get eggrolls, though... and extra sweet and sour sauce." Dean dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number. He watched Cas pour the apple filling into a prepared crust while he placed their order. Job done, he leaned against the counter to enjoy the view. "There's beer in the fridge if you want it."  

Dean didn't have to be told twice. He opened the fridge and gasped. "Holy shit, Cas... did you buy out the whole store?" The shelves held every type of vegetable imaginable, and the space that wasn't occupied by produce was packed with other foods. The six-pack of beer could only be accessed if he moved the... "Cas, what the hell is this?" He pulled out a large orange thing that looked like a pear on steroids. 

"Butternut squash," Cas answered matter-of-factly. "I plan on roasting it." 

"Yeah, you do that. When Sam sees all this, he's gonna fall in love with you."  

Head down and staring intently at the crust he was crimping, Cas' shoulders tensed and he gave a brief, tight smile. There was a slightly unpleasant tension between them, and Dean wondered what he'd done wrong. All he said was that Sam would fall in...  _shit_. Cas couldn't be upset over that... he had to know it was a joke, so why...? Unless it wasn't about Sam. Dean suddenly realized it was the first time he'd said anything about loving Cas and he'd said it about his  _brother_. Yeah, he could see how that might be upsetting. He could fix this if he could just nut up and tell Cas that he loved him. It was true... and Dean was done trying to hide it or talk himself out of it.  

He started to open his mouth, but a sharp rush of nerves overtook him and he almost dropped the heavy vegetable he was holding. He fumbled with it for a second, then quickly shoved it back in the fridge and closed the door without getting the beers.  _Dammit_. He opened it again and grabbed two bottles, took a deep breath, and set Cas' beer within reach. Perhaps he wasn't as ready as he thought. Instead of saying the words he wanted to say, he took the chicken-shit route. "What can I do to help?" 

Cas seemed to have a handle on everything, so he just smiled and gestured for Dean to sit on a barstool. Cas was just placing the final pie in the oven when the food was delivered. Dean set everything out on the counter so they could eat while waiting for the baking to get done. It was barely eight o'clock when Cas finished everything. Was it too early to suggest going to bed? Dean knew Cas was just as eager as he was, but he didn't want to come across as a caveman. His hesitation didn't last long. Cas closed the distance between them, pressing until Dean's back was against the counter. Then he reached out and with a flick of his finger, the kitchen light went out.  

"Shall we?" 

Dean was definitely on board and wasted no time as he grabbed Cas' hand and pulled him down the hall. He heard Cas chuckling behind him. Dean looked over his shoulder with a wicked grin. "What, too soon? Should we go back and watch a movie to kill some time? You're right. Maybe I should just go read a book or something instead... " He pretended to turn and head back downstairs. 

"Don't you dare," Cas snarled. His voice was so much deeper than usual, Dean's heartrate shot up. He hauled Cas through the bedroom door, then spun around to pin him against the wall in a kiss that was almost hard enough to draw blood. Cas' hands were in his hair, tugging and scraping Dean's scalp with his blunt fingernails. The kiss was wet and sloppy and  _perfect_. Dean wanted nothing more than to get Cas naked. Cas helped remove his own clothes and then started working on Dean's. Shirt tossed aside, Dean shimmied out of his jeans, his mouth curved in a victorious smile at the sight of the doctor standing before him, bare and beautiful, his erection thick and hard.  

Dean reached down to cup Cas' heavy sac, more than a little turned on by the sound Cas made as he brought his hands up to rest on Dean's shoulders. Tonight, there would be nothing between them... and it was thrilling. He trailed a finger up the underside of Cas' cock, but stopped just short of the head. Cas was staring right into his eyes and his tongue darted out to lick his lips, the movement drawing Dean's gaze.  _Damn_.  

"Dean..." His name was broken and breathless.  

"I'm going to take you apart, Cas... piece... by... piece," Dean whispered and sank to his knees, keeping their eyes locked the whole time. He let his hands rest on the outside of Cas' strong thighs, then with the skill of a porn star, took Cas inside his mouth. The bitterness of Cas' precum and the musky scent of the man himself did things to Dean... things that he couldn't quite explain.  

As he sucked Cas' cock, his hands never stopped moving, alternating between squeezing his balls and gripping the base of his shaft hard enough to keep him from tipping over the edge. The filthy noises Cas was making went straight to Dean's aching dick. He touched himself, just a loose-handed stroke that sent sparks down his spine. His eyes drifted shut and he felt gentle fingers glide from the back of his skull to his jaw. " _Dean._ "  

This time, his name sounded more like a command and he pulled off and raised his head. He knew the picture he made.... lips wet with spit, skin flushed, eyes looking up at his lover in supplication. He thought for a brief, panicked second that Cas might be able to see the open adoration in his face.  _No... this was love, pure and simple_.   

He leaned back on his heels and let Cas pull him to his feet and fold him into his arms. Cas' mouth found his and he moaned into it, his longing etched into every languid sweep of his tongue. Every touch, every feeling, every thought he had was filled with desire for this man... and he would never get enough.  

"I need you," he breathed across Cas' lips. Hands gripped Dean's ass and pulled him close. Their cocks brushed against each other and Dean hissed at the sensation. "Cas..."  

With a moan, Cas seized his mouth once more, urging Dean toward the bed one step at a time. He fell back onto the mattress and Cas followed, his hands resting on either side of Dean's head. For a moment, they simply stared into each other's eyes without making a move. Then the tension snapped and they were a tangled mess of lips and limbs, rutting against each other and rolling across the mattress.  

Their first time had been slow and almost gentle, but this was different. Touches and kisses were harder... more driven... almost desperate with the need to be closer. Dean knew he would have bruises, but Cas was wise enough to leave them where they wouldn't be seen. He was on his back with Cas draped over him, his mouth latched onto one of Dean's nipples, slowly driving him insane. One of his hands was between Dean's legs, fondling his balls. Dean grabbed a handful of hair and tugged until he broke away.   

Their eyes met and held. Cas' mouth curved in a soft smile and Dean reached up and touched his face. "Cas... I..." He was about to say  _it,_  but Cas' soft kiss stopped him. He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

"Shhh..." Cas rose to his knees, reached over to the nightstand, and pulled out the same bottle of Astroglide they used before. He held out his hand for the bottle but was shocked into silence when Cas slicked up his own fingers and reached back to push inside of himself. His head fell back and he breathed a soft sigh, lips parted and slack with pleasure. Dean moaned at the sight and reached down to clamp the base of his cock. 

He watched in rapt fascination as Cas fucked himself on his fingers, his eyes never leaving Dean's. It was the hottest fucking thing he had ever seen. He sat up and gripped the back of Cas' neck, drawing him in and plunging his tongue inside that mouth. Then Cas' hands were on Dean's biceps and pushing him down to the bed, already moving to straddle him as his back hit the sheets. Dean's hands found Cas' hips and he sucked in a breath and held it as he felt a hand spreading lube on his dick.  

 _This was it_. Dean couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. Other than Anna and one time back when he was a stupid teen, he didn't have unprotected sex... and he had never done that with a man before. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was about to change everything... like he was teetering on the brink of something big but didn't know what it was.  

"Dean... breathe." He looked up at Cas and exhaled. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm good... just... this is a big deal." He let out a shaky laugh but rested his palms on Cas' thighs to let him know he was fine. 

Cas tilted his head and looked down at him. "It is a big deal... and I'm happy to share this with you." Coming from anyone else, it would have been cheesy as hell. But Cas had a way of speaking with such sincerity, his words made their way to Dean's heart, warming him from the inside out. He could only nod in response and Cas took that as his cue to keep going. He reached around and gripped Dean's shaft, holding it steady while he slowly sank down on it. Their eyes remained on each other until Cas' ass was resting against Dean's hips. Velvet heat surrounded him and Dean inhaled deeply as he trailed fingers up and down Cas' thighs. He could feel Cas' muscles beneath his touch... the tightly coiled restraint between them as he waited for Cas to set the pace. 

He bent down and kissed Dean again, then began to rock his hips back and forth... a languorous, rolling movement that kept their mouths together... not kissing, just sharing the same breath. Cas shifted and placed his hands on Dean's chest, pushing himself up to a sitting position again. He flexed his thighs and started to ride Dean's cock.  

"God... you feel so good, babe...  _so good_ ," Dean whispered, his hands moving up Cas' arms, over his strong shoulders, then coming to rest on his gorgeous neck. Gazing up at the man above him, Dean wondered what he had done in his life to deserve such perfection. Cas was the whole package... intelligent, caring, funny... and fucking  _awesome_ in bed.  

Dean couldn't take his eyes off him. Cas' eyes were closed now, his body moving in a way that pleasured them both. Dean was getting close and needed to make sure Cas was too. With one hand still gripping Cas' thigh, he wrapped the other around his straining cock. Cas made a soft mewling sound and his rhythm changed as he started fucking into Dean's fist... faster and faster...   

"That's it..." Dean murmured, urging his lover to take what he wanted. "You're so beautiful like this..."  

Cas' rhythm faltered, his gaze seeming to pierce Dean's very soul. He felt Cas tighten around his cock, squeezing him like a vice... and it was too much. Dean let out a loud, throaty moan as he tumbled over the edge, his orgasm blindsiding him with its intensity. Cas was all around him, in his mind, his heart... and before he could stop himself, Dean cried out, " _I love you._ " Cas' eyes widened and he gasped, his release spilling over Dean's stomach and chest. When his senses returned, Cas had all but collapsed on top of him and was still trying to slow his breathing to normal. 

"Jesus," Dean gasped. He caressed up and down Cas' back, still wanting more contact and not quite ready to let go. He felt a hand slide up to cup his face and leaned his cheek on top of Cas' soft, dark nest of hair.  

"Did you mean it," Cas asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

Dean's brows lowered in confusion...  _mean what_? He tried to think of the last few minutes but was drawing a blank. Then he remembered what he said when he came... the look of shock on Cas' face. Fuck... it just slipped out. It's not like he said it on purpose or anything. His heart started beating faster, worry and fear quickly replacing the afterglow. What if Cas didn't feel the same way? It was too soon. What if... 

He must have taken too long to answer because Cas started to pull away. Dean tightened his hold and came to a decision. Fuck it.  

"Yes," he answered simply. Cas raised his head and pinned Dean with those perfect, blue eyes... the hope and longing in that look was almost too much to bear. "I meant it... I love you, Cas."  

A choked sound escaped as Cas surged up and kissed Dean, his lips smiling into it. Then he pulled back and rested their foreheads together. "I love you too, Dean," he whispered. 

"Yeah?" Dean grinned.  _Cas loved him_. Elated, he rolled over so they were side by side. Cas grimaced and his smile was apologetic.  

"We should clean up," Cas murmured sleepily.  

"You stay here, I'll take care of it." He got up and got warm washcloths to clean them both, fully aware that it was probably the most intimate thing he'd ever done with anyone. Carefully and gently, he wiped the evidence of their lovemaking off of Cas' skin. When he was done, he shut off the lights and headed back toward the bed. At the last second, needing to lighten his emotions, he grinned and launched himself onto the mattress, completely disrupting Cas' relaxed state. Cas tried to act pissed, but he failed miserably and surrendered to the laughter as they traded playful kisses until they fell asleep. 

 

The kitchen was a wreck. He'd taken the day off to shop and prepare for Thanksgiving, but it was clear that he would need to clean before even attempting to do anything else. Castiel stood with his hands on his hips and took in the cluttered countertops, the overflowing trashcan, and the strange stain on the floor. He didn't have the slightest clue what that was... all he could think about was the fact that Dean was due to come over in a few hours. Hitching up his gym shorts, he got to work. 

By the time the doorbell rang, Castiel was showered and dressed, and the kitchen was clean enough to look like it was part of a cooking show. What would their show be called?  _Hot Kisses and Haute Cuisine_... or maybe  _Falling in Love with Food_. He snorted a laugh over his lame attempt at humor.  

Seeing Dean with his overnight bag in hand and knowing they had the entire night together sent Castiel into a tailspin. He was glad he had a few moments alone before Dean returned from the bedroom. Having Dean in his kitchen calmed Castiel and within seconds, they were bantering back and forth like old friends. Dean ordered Chinese for dinner while Castiel absorbed himself in the pie he was making. Everything was peaceful and relaxed until Dean opened the fridge. 

"Holy shit, Cas... did you buy out the whole store?" Okay, maybe he went a little overboard at the grocery store... but he wanted everything to be perfect for their first Thanksgiving together. It was the perfect opportunity to get to know Dean's brother and personal assistant better, too. Honestly, he found the whole situation daunting... he wasn't exactly the most exciting conversationalist.  

"Cas, what the hell is this?" Castiel was crimping the pie crust to make it pretty and looked up to see what Dean was talking about. The man was holding the vegetable like it was an alien baby. 

"Butternut squash. I plan on roasting it." 

"Yeah, you do that. When Sam sees all this, he's gonna fall in love with you."  

Castiel dropped his gaze as he felt the unexpected stab of Dean's words. He knew it was only said in jest, but his only thought was that Sam wasn't the one he wanted to fall in love with him. It was only Dean... and he had no idea how long it would be before his boyfriend was ready to say those three words, if ever, but he longed to hear them more than anything.  

He heard Dean fumbling with something but couldn't bring himself to look up, despite his curiosity. A bottle of beer appeared in front of him, and the timid way Dean spoke got his attention. "What can I do to help?"  

"Just keep me company," he answered with a smile, shaking off his hurt feelings. He wiped his hands on a towel and opened the oven to slide the pie inside. Dean answered the door when their dinner arrived, then set it out on the counter. Castiel went over his mental checklist. "I already have the turkey brining. The other prep work can wait until the morning." Halfway through dinner, he gave Dean a devilish grin. "So, for tomorrow... how are you at peeling potatoes?" 

"Hey, I'm not a complete loser in the kitchen. I think I can handle a damn peeler..." 

Castiel gave him a teasing glance but soon realized Dean's mind was elsewhere... and by the looks of it,  _elsewhere_  was Castiel's bedroom. He could get on board with that. Moving closer, he used his body to push Dean back, trapping him against the counter. Castiel leaned forward, reached around Dean's side, and flipped off the light. "Shall we?" 

To say the sex was mind-blowing would have been a massive understatement. Lying in bed listening to Dean's soft snores, he recalled every single second. They had been rough and needy, trading scratches and bites until he'd marked Dean as his own. Now, he was pleasantly sore and his mind was still reeling from Dean's sudden confession. He knew Dean didn't plan to say it... he just got caught up in the moment. But that didn't matter in the end because he repeated it.  _Dean loved him_.  

Dean made a snuffling sound in his sleep and Castiel reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Then Dean gave a soft, contented sigh and the corner of his lip drew up in the sweetest hint of a smile. In that moment, Castiel knew he was a goner. He placed his hand on Dean's chest and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart. 

The next morning, Castiel woke to the delicious scent of coffee and bacon... two of his favorite smells. He stretched lazily, wishing Dean had stayed in bed. The need to see the man he loved overrode the desire to stay inside the warm cocoon of blankets. He hopped up and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and pee. Studying his reflection in the mirror filled him with reminders of last night's activities... Dean's nails digging into his skin... Dean's teeth on his neck... Dean's fingers gripping his hips. He felt his cock twitch at the sight and closed his eyes, willing himself to think of something else. The sound of singing drifted from below and Castiel hurried to throw on a pair of pajama pants and make his way downstairs. 

Pausing at the doorway, he drank in the sight of Dean cooking in his kitchen. He was wearing nothing but his underwear and one of Castiel's old t-shirts, which was a little too small and hugged his shoulders beautifully. He was singing something to himself... it sounded like You Shook Me All Night Long, but it was the classic blues version of the song. Castiel was pretty sure he had the Willie Dixon record it was from... somewhere in his collection. As if sensing his presence, Dean turned, spatula held aloft. "Morning, sunshine. I made breakfast."  

"I can see that," Castiel said, stepping in the room and into Dean's personal space. He kissed him lightly on the cheek, not wanting to distract him. A plate lined with paper towels held a pile of bacon and in the skillet, shredded cheese was melting over scrambled eggs.  

"I kinda made myself at home," Dean said shyly. "Hope that's okay..." 

Castiel slid his arms around Dean's waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Why would I mind? My home is yours."  

Dean brushed his lips along Castiel's temple. "Grab some coffee while I serve this up."  

He did what he was told, slowly stirring in some sugar as he watched Dean move around his kitchen with ease. He set two plates at the end of the island and motioned for Castiel to sit down. They sat side by side on the stools and Dean picked up his fork. "I'm not much of a cook, but I make a mean breakfast."  

"It looks great," he said, loading up his fork with a bite of eggs.  

"So... what's on the agenda for today?" Dean asked, his mouth full of food. How was that endearing? God, he was stupid in love. He smiled and shook his head in wonder, then noticed that Dean was staring back at him. "What?"  

"What?" Castiel echoed. 

"You have this goofy grin on your face." Dean shoved another piece of bacon into his already full mouth. 

"I just love you, that's all." Castiel felt a thrill at the words... saying them would never get old. Instead of replying, Dean leaned against him and curled his pinky finger around Castiel's. The gesture was adorable. They ate in companionable silence, Dean's original question forgotten.  

After tidying up the breakfast mess, Castiel took a pen and notepad out of the junk drawer and, leaning on the counter, started making a list of all they needed to get done before dinner. He felt a presence behind him, but before he could turn around, Dean's palms were on his shoulders, then caressing down both arms until coming to a stop over his busy hands. Warm breath was on his neck, then his ears as Dean whispered, "I want you so much right now..." 

Castiel moaned softly and let his head slump forward while Dean trailed open-mouthed kisses across the back of his neck, pausing to suck gently against his nape. He pushed his hips back and felt Dean's erection against his ass, drawing a pleading sound from his throat. Dean stepped away, much to Castiel's dismay, but took him by the arm and turned him around. Their bodies were pressed together, the skin of Castiel's chest rubbing against Dean's shirt. Then they were kissing... Castiel melted into it, letting Dean take possession of his mouth as he held on. His lips chased Dean when he pulled back, the space between them filled with their gasps for air.    

With a feral growl, Castiel took control and pulled Dean's hair until the long line of his neck was exposed, then nipped at the sensitive spot by his Adam's apple before moving over to the area under his left ear. Dean shivered and made a sound that sent a rush of desire through Castiel. He had to have this man... right here, right now. He reached down and shoved Dean's briefs down, exposing his hard cock, flushed with arousal. He knelt and took Dean into his mouth, relishing the taste of him. He dipped his tongue into the slit and then sucked on the head. His hand dug into the cheek of Dean's ass and he swallowed, lips tightening around the shaft while his throat contracted over and over again.   

"Fuck," Dean hissed through gritted teeth, his hand fisting Castiel's hair as he began to move up and down Dean's cock. He tongued the slit again, enjoying the salty taste of precum. Looking up, he circled the tip, then pulled off only to take him all the way down once more. "Goddamn, Cas... you gotta stop or this is gonna end way too soon..." 

He hummed softly before releasing Dean's dick. With a knowing smile, he tugged Dean's briefs back in place and stood, reaching up to run his fingers through his lover's hair in a calming gesture. "What do you want, Dean? Say it and it's yours," Castiel said, his voice hoarse and throat raw. He waited patiently for Dean to collect himself, soothing him with his movements. He didn't have to wait long. 

"I want..." Dean wrapped his hand around Castiel's neck and brought him close. When their lips were barely a breath apart, he whispered, "I want you to fuck me."  

Castiel could have sworn his heart stopped. He swallowed thickly, his hand clenching Dean's hair involuntarily. He let go and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Dean's perfect lips. "Yes," he replied simply. Then he took Dean's hand and led him to the bedroom, willing his pulse to slow down. He needed to keep his wits about him if he was going to do this right. He got the sense that Dean didn't normally do this, and knowing he was giving himself to Castiel this way meant more than he could ever say.  

Standing beside the bed, he hesitated, feeling like he should check once more to see if this was truly what Dean wanted. As if sensing Castiel's thoughts, Dean pressed against his back and kissed his neck, whispering, "I want this..." another kiss... "with you." 

Dean bent to take off his underwear and tossed them aside. Castiel stood rooted to the spot as he watched Dean pull away the covers and sprawl on his back, running his hand slowly up and down his shaft. He stripped and knelt between Dean's legs. "I do love you... so much." He needed to say the words again before they took this next step. 

"I know you do, Cas. I love you, too." Dean reached out and Castiel entwined their fingers together, then lowered his body over Dean's. They shared a few kisses until Dean broke away to reach for the lube, still on the nightstand from before. "Do you want me to..." He gestured with the bottle. 

"No. I want to do it." Castiel took the lube and flipped the cap with his thumb. Dean spread his legs wider and closed his eyes. "Dean?" 

He blinked them open and looked at Castiel questioningly. "Yeah?" 

"Have you ever done this?" 

Giving Castiel a faint smile, he nodded. "Once or twice... back in college."  Quickly calculating, Castiel figured it had been at least eighteen years. He was about to get started when Dean let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Like I said, I'm no saint."  

Castiel frowned. "None of us are, Dean. We all have histories that have shaped us into who we become. You're perfect just the way you are. I could never find fault with anything in your past because all of it led you here... to me." Dean swallowed thickly, his eyes expressing his gratitude and maybe a little awe. Vowing to make this good for Dean, he warmed the gel in his hand and reached between Dean's thighs.  

This time, Dean didn't close his eyes. His ardent stare held Castiel's, and he hoped with all his heart that Dean could see everything he felt. He wanted to give this man everything... pour his heart into every touch, every look, every single word. Castiel wasn't sure if it would make Dean uncomfortable to hear it all, but he'd spent his entire life holding back and he couldn't do it anymore. Dean was the best man Castiel had ever known and he deserved to be worshipped and adored. He lightly touched Dean's entrance, pleased at the way his breath hitched in response.   

Castiel leaned in closer, brushing his lips across the surface of Dean's stubbled chin and up to his ear. "There are so many things I love about you."  

"Cas..."  

"Shhh... I love that you're a good father. I love that no matter how busy you are, you still find time to connect with others and make them feel like they're important. I love that you tell the  _dumbest_ jokes, but they make me laugh anyway." Castiel pressed his index finger inside Dean's tight heat. "I love the way your beautiful eyes betray everything you're thinking and feeling." He planted a soft peck just above each eye, then another in the corner of Dean's mouth. "I love the way your lips feel against mine," he whispered. He lavished Dean's body with kisses... neck, chest, belly... further down to his knee and inner thigh, all while thrusting in and out. Slow, torturous motions that soon had Dean moving his hips, seeking more. Obliging him, Castiel pushed in another and a soft sound escaped Dean as he arched his back.  

" _Ah_ ," Dean grunted when Castiel added a third and twisted them, stretching the muscle while seeking Dean's prostate. His efforts were rewarded by Dean's loud, sudden gasp. " _Fuck_... forgot what that felt like..."  

Castiel's fingers thrusted harder, faster... and Dean was meeting each one, hips lifting off the bed wantonly. The sight was incredible and Castiel felt like he was already close. His neglected cock was wet with his arousal, but he didn't dare touch. Sensing Dean was ready, Castiel slowly removed his fingers and watched, mouth open in awe, as Dean continued to roll his hips, his hole open and slick. 

"Turn over," he commanded, his voice deep and strained. He wanted Dean to enjoy this as much as possible and knew that it would be more comfortable on his stomach. Dean obeyed, rolling over and raising up to his knees. Castiel bit his lip painfully to temper his lust, quickly pouring more lube and stroking it up and down his straining shaft. Not giving a damn about cleanliness, he wiped his hand on the sheet, then latched onto Dean's hip with one hand while the other guided his cock to rub against Dean's hole. Seeing the head of his dick, wet with lube, lying in the cleft of Dean's ass was one of the hottest things Castiel had ever seen. He cemented it in his mind, certain he would never forget this. _Never_. 

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he pushed inside, feeling the slight resistance as his cock slipped past Dean's rim. "Dean..." Castiel shut his eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip again. Dean suddenly surged back, driving Castiel deep inside.   

"Fuck..." Dean hissed but started to move. Castiel had both hands on Dean's hips now, trying to hold him still... but Dean wasn't having it. He bucked and writhed, clearly wanting more. "Fuck me, Cas.  _Please_..." 

It was the whispered please that did it. Castiel drove his body forward, fucking into Dean over and over again. He watched the muscles of Dean's back and shoulders flex and then release with each powerful thrust. Dean's right arm shifted and Castiel knew the second he took hold of his own cock. The rhythm was almost brutal and their breaths were harsh and gasping. Everything he was feeling... the lust, the passion, the  _need_... it all exploded into white heat. His vision blurred and he tightened his grip, digging his fingernails into his lover's skin. He cried out Dean's name as he emptied himself into his willing body. Dean moaned as he came seconds later, muscles tensing before he collapsed onto the bed, Castiel sinking down on top of him.  

Castiel drifted back into awareness, realizing he was lying across Dean's back. Eventually, Dean moved to roll Castiel off of him and onto the bed. He propped himself up on an elbow, his mouth quirked in a serene smile. "You're pretty fuckin' amazing, Novak." 

Before Castiel could respond, the buzz from his phone caused them both to frown. He picked it up and read the text.  

 **Text from Gabe/9:39AM - I picked up the spiral ham you ordered. Need anything else? I can swing by the store.**  

All the cylinders in Castiel's brain began to fire at once as panic shot through him. "Shit," he exclaimed as he checked the time. He slapped Dean's ass. "You've made us late."  

"What do you mean, late? It's not like we're going anywhere," Dean said, rubbing his reddening buttcheek. "Ow, by the way." 

"Gabriel will be here soon and I haven't done anything on my list." Come to think of it, Dean interrupted him before he even made the list. "Damnit, Dean..." 

"Easy, babe. Don't worry, it's gonna be fine." Dean stood and reached for Cas' hand. "Come on, let's take a nice, hot shower and then I'll do whatever you need me to do."  

  

Dean stood at the counter as he peeled the potatoes. Sitting definitely wasn't in the cards... he had a feeling he'd be sore for a while. Cas was bent over checking on the turkey and Dean stopped long enough to appreciate the view. Cas must have sensed it because he closed the oven door and spun around, eyeing Dean sternly. "Back to work, Winchester," he ordered. Dean gave him a smirk before returning to the task at hand.  

The smells wafting through the kitchen were downright heavenly. Gabriel, having arrived just after they finished their shower, was mixing the ingredients for the stuffing. Every burner on the stove was occupied and they were back on schedule. Dean let his mind wander...  

Would all the holidays be like this from now on? When he married Anna, Dean imagined his life would be like this... holidays spent preparing meals together, maybe decorating a Christmas tree... the kind of shit other kids had growing up. The only problem was that Anna and her family were never really into traditions. Every year, Anna insisted on hiring a decorator to make sure the themed trees were just perfect for entertaining. Instead of being about family, their holidays revolved around the Austin social scene and the celebrities of the sporting world. He tried to make up for it after the divorce, but with their custody arrangement, he only had Mac every other Christmas. He went through the motions of putting up a tree, but it wasn't anything special.  

"Dean?" Cas' concerned tone brought him out of his thoughts and he met his boyfriend's eyes. 

"What?" 

"Are you alright? You seemed like you were a million miles away..."  

Dean smiled. "Yeah... I was just thinking about past holidays." 

"Okay..." Cas came closer and nodded at the huge pile of potatoes. "But I think you've peeled enough to feed half the county. There's only six of us, right?" 

Dean looked down and grimaced. "Oops... guess I got carried away." 

Cas leaned into him, placed a soft kiss on his cheek, and whispered, "What's wrong?" 

Glancing over to make sure Gabriel was occupied, Dean shook his head. "I'm just... I don't know...  _happy_. Our holidays were never like this." 

"Like what? Organized chaos," Cas teased, already grabbing handfuls of peels to discard in the trashcan. 

"Yes, exactly. I've always wanted this. Cooking together... laughter... lopsided Christmas trees and handmade stockings..." He stopped, suddenly embarrassed. "I know, it's stupid." 

"No, it's not stupid at all. In fact, I'm taking you and Mac to the Christmas tree farm tomorrow so we can find a very tall,  _very_ lopsided tree." 

Dean grinned and pulled Cas close, dirty hands and all. He rested their foreheads together and said, "Don't ever change, Cas. Promise me." 

"I promise. I'll always..." 

The doorbell rang before Cas could finish his sentence. "That must be the rest of the crew," Dean said with a grin. 

Over the next hour, the six of them crowded in the kitchen and like Cas said, it was organized chaos. Cas was like a drill sergeant, ordering everyone around and being ridiculously picky about the recipes. Mac started calling him Chef Ramsay and when Cas would ask her to do something, she'd yell, "Yes, Chef."  

In retribution, Cas shoved a piece of ice down the back of her sweater and she shrieked like a banshee. Dean watched from the corner of the room, happiness settling on him like a warm blanket. Sam and Gabriel were on gravy duty, occasionally elbowing each other hard enough to spill. Charlie was mashing the potatoes, her head bobbing as she sang Adam's Sandler's  _Thanksgiving Song_. He realized he'd finally found what had been missing his whole life...  _home._    
 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Since Mac was the one to help bring the to men together, I wanted the epilogue to be in her POV.

Mac zipped up the bag she just finished packing and paused to look out the window. The pool was sparkling in the early morning light and she could hear the birds chirping in the hedges outside her window. It was going to be a beautiful day... except for the fact that she was leaving. It was a bittersweet moment. On one hand, she was excited to be going off to an amazing school... but on the other, she was sad to be leaving her family behind. It wasn't just her dads... she was also going to miss Charlie, Uncle Sam, and Uncle Gabriel, her partner in crime... evenher irritating little brothers. There was a knock on her door. "Come in," she called.

Cas... no,  _Dad_ entered the room. "Are you all packed," he asked, his voice sounding unusually gruff. She nodded and pointed to the two suitcases on the bed. 

She never would have expected him to be the one hit the hardest by her departure. Then again, ever since the first time she called him Dad all those years ago, they'd had a special bond. It was different than Daddy... he was upset that she was going but being more vocal about it helped him process things more easily. Cas was always the stoic one, holding his feelings in so he could take care of everyone else's needs first. 

He was the one who helped her fill out all the college applications and argued on her behalf when it came time to make her final choice of schools. Daddy wanted her to stay in Texas. While Texas A&M had a great swimming program, Auburn was one of the best veterinary schools in the country. After selling their place in Austin to move in with Cas six years ago, her father had their horses transferred to the clinic's stables. Mac had taken to spending most of her free time there and enjoyed it so much, she decided to become a large animal vet. She would miss the beloved animals, but she needed to put her education goals first. 

"I'm ready," she said, closing the distance. "I'm going to miss our family trail rides." She walked into his arms and felt a kiss on top of her head.

"Not nearly as much as I will, Honeybee," he whispered, releasing her. "But you'll be home for the holidays, and we'll be at all your meets."

"Not  _al_ _l_ ," she reminded him. "You have two more kids to raise, remember?"

"How could I forget," he laughed. "Mark and Lucas never fail to keep us on our toes." The two boys had been in the foster care system until her father met them through his volunteer work at  _Kids_ _in_ _the Game_ , a program for underprivileged children. She was fifteen when Daddy pitched the idea of opening their home to Mark. Everyone, including Gabriel, voted unanimously in favor of the addition to their family. Lucas followed six months later. At sixteen and thirteen respectively, the boys were now thriving and Mac couldn't imagine life without them. "Speaking of which, they made breakfast this morning. I haven't gone near the kitchen out of fear of what it looks like, but it smells good. 

"I gotta say, Mark definitely takes after you, but Lucas... he's a walking disaster and gravity is his arch-nemesis." They shared a laugh while gathering her bags before leaving the room. Mac shouldered her purse and wheeled the smaller suitcase behind her. Cas followed, hefting the larger one, her backpack, and a tote that was bulging at the seams. They trooped down the hall and dropped everything by the front door until it was time to load the car. "Where's Daddy?"  

"He should be back in a little while. He had to..." He stopped so abruptly that Mac knew he was hiding something.

"He had to what?" Cas shook his head as she poked him in the ribs. "Come on... what's he up to? You know you want to tell me..."

Cas mimicked buttoning his lips and Mac rolled her eyes, knowing she wouldn't get it out of him. With an overly dramatic sigh, she gave up. They stood there looking over the pile of luggage and taking mental inventory. Cas turned toward her and asked, "You sure you have everything?"

"Crap... I think I left my charger plugged in."

"I'll grab it for you," he said with a pat on her shoulder and headed back the way they came. Mac made her way to the kitchen, took one look at the mess, and groaned. "Dad is going to shit when he sees this mess." 

Mark looked up and shrugged as he finished scooping a batch of home fries into a bowl. Lucas started laughing, which caused him to slosh orange juice all over the counter as he poured it into a glass. 

"Jeez, Luc... I know you're a klutz, but this is ridiculous," Mac teased while grabbing a paper towel to wipe up the puddle.

"It's your going-away breakfast. He'll forgive us," Lucas assured her. Broken eggshells, bacon grease, assorted trash, and dirty dishes were covering every surface.

"I'm home. Breakfast ready yet?" Her father's voice rang through the house. He stopped in the doorway and his eyes widened. "Cas is going to shit when he sees this mess." Mac pointed to both boys and nodded a silent  _I told you so_.

"Oh... my... god..." Cas' look of dismay had her giggling. He hugged her father from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. "Maybe I'll just move to Alabama with Mac and leave you three to deal with this... catastrophe."

"Aw, you could never leave me, Sunshine." He turned and pulled Cas into his arms. "You'd miss me too much."

After all these years, Mac was still amazed at the way her dads loved each other. The passage of time had only made them closer. Cas kissed his husband and said, "Yes, I'd miss you... and the boys, too. But—"

"We'll clean it up, Cas. Won't we, boys?" Dean looked sternly at the two teens. Looking contrite, they both nodded. 

Forty minutes later, they pulled out of the driveway. She was staring at their home, fixing the image in her mind, when she noticed her Outback was missing. The Subaru had been a sixteenth birthday present from her dads. She leaned forward, sticking her head between them in the front seat. "Where's my Baby?"

"How many times do I have to tell you... you can't call that foreign  _thing_ Baby. Baby is mine. She's American-made... a  _classic_." Mac had heard this spiel for the last two years and had gotten used to ignoring it.

"Whatever. I want to know what you did to her. Don't tell me you sold her. She's mine. I can drive her when I'm home." Her voice had risen to the point of hysteria. 

"Whoa, calm down, Princess." He looked at Cas and took his hand. "Your dad here thought you could use a car at school, so I arranged for a truck to haul it east for you."

It took a moment for the words to sink in and then she squealed, lavishing both of them with kisses. "Mac, please put your seatbelt back on," Cas scolded, but his smile said he was happy she liked the surprise. She leaned back, buckled her seatbelt, and settled in for the drive to the airport, Mark and Lucas on either side of her.

College was the start of a whole new adventure in her life. She'd already won several national titles but going to Auburn and making the Olympic team for the 2024 Summer Games was a dream come true. She looked at the two men in the front and knew she couldn't have done it without them. They had been to every swim meet, arranged for the best coaches... Cas even had a pool built in the backyard just for her. And when Mac chose Auburn, her dads dropped everything to take her to the campus for orientation. 

At the airport, her family stayed back to let her check in by herself. She'd be doing this a lot with all the trips home to Dallas. Ticket in hand, she walked with them to the TSA area. Tears were welling, and she saw her dad blink a few times and look away. Cas stood tall and proud next to him and rested a reassuring hand on the small of his back, his eyes shining with pride as he gazed at her. She hugged the boys first and promised there'd be hell to pay if they went in her room. Then she turned to Cas. "I love you, Dad." 

"I love you too, Mac," he said softly, holding her tight against his chest. "You call us if you need anyth...." His voice broke. She nodded and kissed his cheek.

"I will, I promise. I'm going to miss you so much." She swallowed as he wiped away her tears with his thumbs.

"Time to go, Mac," her dad said stiffly. She let herself be enveloped in his strong arms. "You're gonna be fine. Show 'em how it's done, Sweetheart."

"I love you, Daddy," she cried, not caring about her carefully applied makeup. She'd been so excited to go off to college, but now... it suddenly hit her that it'd be months before she could see her dads again. 

Her dad must have seen the panic in her expression, because he took her hands in his. "I'm so damn proud of you, Mackenzie Lee Winchester-Novak." She smiled at her new last name. She legally changed it when she turned eighteen... her first adult decision. Cas, the stoic one, had shed a single man tear when she told him what she wanted to do. It was the final thread that wove them together forever, and now that she stood on the precipice of a long separation, she felt herself unraveling. Her dad's voice brought her back to the present. "I know it's scary, and you're gonna be homesick... but you've already been through so much. There ain't a damn thing in this world that you can't do." He took her by the shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "Remember what your Uncle Bobby says... you go out there and kick it in the ass."

The loud speakers announced her flight and she sniffed. With one final hug to her dad, she turned, hefted her backpack onto her shoulders and walked to the security screening. She gave the man her pass and ID, then turned to give a final wave.

"Your dad is Dean Winchester?" The boy asked her out of the blue. She looked across the aisle at him. The professor wasn't there yet, so she nodded, frowning at the bluntness of his question. 

"Yes... how did you know that?" Raised by two protective fathers, her first instinct was to be cautious around strangers... even if said stranger was a cute guy sitting next to her in class.  

"Hey..." He held up his hands in a placating manner. "I'm not stalking you or anything. I just saw him here last week when you were swimming against Ole Miss." He blushed. "Okay, that might sound like I'm creeping on you, but I swear I'm not. My cousin is on your team... Krissy Chambers."

"You're Jack?" At his nod, she grinned. "She talks about you all the time. Were you a fan of my dad's?"  

"Hell, yeah. He was awesome. I got to see him play Atlanta once." He dug around in his backpack and pulled out a t-shirt. She recognized the design from her father's line of athleticwear. "I have a lot of his clothes. God, now I sound like I'm crushing on him. I'm not gay... not that there's anything wrong with that. I mean your dad and... I guess he's your stepdad... they seem pretty chill. Okay, so, I'm going to shut up now." He turned to face forward and she thought he was adorable. Jack must have been telling the truth about being a big fan, because the clothing was fairly expensive.

"My dads are both coming to watch the meet against Georgia this weekend. If you want, I can introduce you." His head whipped around and... yep... he was really cute. "So, you obviously like watching baseball... do you play?"

"Yes. I was a walk-on my freshman year. I'm being scouted by a couple of farm leagues."

"That's great. My dad could give you a few names to throw around," she offered.

He frowned. "No, thanks. I want to make it on my own or not at all." He went from adorable to something else...   something she didn't need to be thinking about. School and swimming were the priority. Dating was a distraction she didn't need.  

"I'm sure Daddy would like to meet you," she said, just as the professor came in. 

That night, she lay in her dorm room, her Chem book on her stomach. She subconsciously played with the tiny medallion she never took off. She wondered when her dad really knew he was in love with Cas. Theirs was the perfect love story.  Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, smiling. When Cas proposed, he done it with all the romance of Hollywood. Candles set in mason jars all over the back yard and even floating in the pool. Her and her dad had come back from practice to find the house empty. The kitchen smelled terrific, but dinner nor Cas were in sight. She remembered her dad yelling for him and then their phones had both pinged at the same time. The text was simple. _Meet me out back._

"What's all this," he dad had asked, taking in the candles and the picnic spread on the grass. Cas had stepped up to both of them. 

"Mackenzie, I wish to ask your permission to marry your father." He stared up at her, holding her hand in his. She began to cry. He looked upset, but then she smiled through her tears. "By marrying him, I would be honored if you would agree to become my daughter." She nodded and he'd fastened the necklace around her neck. It was then that she turned to her dad. He was staring at Cas and the look on his face was one that she'd always remember. Cas knelt down on knee, gazed up at her dad, and held out a ring box. "Dean, will you do me the honor..."

He didn't get to finish because her dad was on his knees and they were kissing and she backed away. Even then, she knew this was something special and they didn't need a kid around. They noticed her missing a little while later, but she held up her peanut butter sandwich and told them she was good. She heard them laughing and talking until late into the night. 

On impulse, she'd send a text to both of them and told them she loved them. She'd lost a mother, but she'd gained another dad, one that was devoted to her and her dad. 

Over the next few classes, she and Jack talked and got to know one another better. He really was smart and sweet. At practice she pumped Krissy for information about her cousin. Her friend started referring to it as a crush. Maybe it was, but Mac didn't care. 

She mentioned him to Cas one evening by accident and she almost heard the wheels in his head turning. She covered up her mistake by saying his was the dorky cousin of one of her teammates and he was a fan of her dad's.  She thought he'd bought it until they showed up Friday night before the meet. The boys had stayed home spending the night with friends, so it was just her and her fathers.

She'd taken them down to a Toomer's Corner to walk around before going to eat at The Hound. They ordered and then both men crossed their arms on the table. "Tell me about the boy," he dad said in his best stern father voice. She looked at Cas in betrayal. He had the decency to look abashed.

"What boy?"  

"That didn't work when you were little, it sure as hell won't work now. Spill."

"There's nothing to spill. We are just friends. Like I told Dad, his cousin is a teammate." Cas lifted an eyebrow and it was the look he gave Daddy when they were getting ready to have words. "It's true. We haven't even been on a date yet."  _Oops_. 

"Yet? _Yet_?" The second time he'd said it, it caused heads to turn. Cas' hand came up to cover her daddy's. Just the touch calmed him and he took a deep breath before blowing it out slowly. "Mac, we talked about this. Boys are bad news. They only want one thing."

"Dean, stop talking." Cas' tone left no room for argument.

"But..." There went the eyebrow thing again, this time directed at her father. He dad snapped his mouth shut. Cas turned to her.

"Mackenzie, what your father is trying to say... rather badly... is that we worry about you. We are aware that you have a good head on your shoulders, but hormones..."

"God, please, not the doctor lecture." She'd been scared forever when Cas and her father had sat her down to really talk about  _that_. Mom had given her the period talk and the body parts talk, but Cas spared no detail, not matter how much it embarrassed both her and her dad.

Cas looked affronted. Dean smirked at his husband and intertwined their fingers. "Babe, the doctor thing sucks the romance right out of it." Then he glared across the table at her. "Not that there is romance here, right?"

"Right." It wasn't a lie. Jack hadn't even asked her for a date yet. To get her dad in a better mood, she told him about Jack's mancrush on Dean Winchester, star pitcher. After that dinner was spent catching up on life at home.

The next day, she won the butterfly and the freestyle. Auburn had taken the relay and Alicia won the breaststroke. Her dads hugged her, despite her wet suit, then they congratulated her teammates. She saw Jack standing behind his cousin, eyes focused on her father. "Dad, this is Jack."

He stuck out his hand and Jack took it. She saw him wince and knew her dad was being an ass, but she didn't say anything. "Mac tells me you play. What position?" And they were off talking about baseball.

Cas wrapped her towel more tightly around her shoulders and pulled her aside. "You are smart enough to make your own decisions, Mac. Your father raised you to think for yourself. He trusts you."

"I like him, Dad." 

"Then we will get to know him." He kissed her forehead and they dropped her off at her dorm. Jack was invited out with them for a late dinner. Her fathers must have talked, because her daddy was  _nicer_.

"Paris. Oh my God, we're in Paris," Mac said, holding onto one of her teammates. The US Swim Team landed at Charles De Gaulle Airport amid all the hoopla that went with the Olympics. The coaches rushed them through and into the waiting buses. Mac was live on Facebook showing all her friends back home her first look at the city. 

Olympic village was chaotic, but she loved it. It didn't take her long to get settled in her room and then she was off to explore. She already missed Jack, but he was flying over with her dads and she'd see him soon. She looked down at the promise ring he'd given her for her birthday right after he signed with the Arizona Diamondbacks. With her schedule, dating a up and coming baseball player wasn't easy, but after three years together, somehow, they made it work. Neither were ready for an engagement, but they were committed to each other.

Forty-eight hours later, she was standing on the starting block. In the stands, wearing Team USA colors, were her two dads, Jack, her brothers, Uncle Sam, and Uncle Gabe. Their eyes were all on her. The whistle blew once and she bent into position. The starting signal sounded and she hit the water. The freestyle was her favorite. She concentrated on her strokes, hearing her coach in her head. She tuned out the noise from the crowd. At the wall, she flipped and pushed off hard. She was doing this for her family. Her hand touched and she grabbed the edge of the pool. Her eyes shot to the scoreboard and her country's flag was in lights in first place. And beside it was Winchester-Nov. She laughed. They'd run out of room. The roar of the crowd filled the arena. She hauled herself out of the pool and her coach was there, wrapping her in a red, white and blue towel. 

In the stands, her dads were jumping and hugging each other. Her uncles were waving American flags and Jack was grinning at her. She blinked back tears. "I'm so happy, Mom," she whispered. 

Back straight, Mac stood on the stand and bent to receive her medal. It felt heavy around her neck. The bronze went to Japan and the silver, to Australia. As one, each girl put the medallion between their teeth and bit down. Flashes blinded them.  As she stepped down, she was enveloped by strong arms. "Daddy."

"You did it, baby girl." Cas waited his turn and respectively, Jack stood until she'd gone through the rest of her family. Finally, he took her into his arms and kissed her cheek. 

"Congratulations, Mac," he said softly. "I love you so much."

She saw her dad's face when he heard Jack's words and she waited for him to say something. He'd accepted they were a thing, but she hadn't told him about the ring.  Cas whispered into his ear and her dad nodded, taking a moment to brush his lips over his husband's.

Much later, her father pulled her aside and asked to go for a walk. Her stomach knotted. Would he try to forbid her from seeing Jack? She was an adult now. He wouldn't do that. 

He took her hand and they stopped walking, her dad pointed to Cas, who was sitting at a small café with the rest of the family. "See that man in the stupid trenchcoat?"

She frowned. "You mean dad?"

"Yeah. That man holds my heart in his hands. He has the power to break it into thousands of pieces, but he'd never do that. You know why?"

"Why?" She was watching her father, but his eyes were on Cas.

"Because he loves me. And he knows that I love him just as much, if not more. Good times and bad, I know he'll be there for me. He loves me despite my flaws." He turned to her and cupped her face in his large hand. "We fight, Princess. God, we've had some bad ones, but that fool over there won't let me go to sleep until we've made up"

"TMI, Dad," she teased, needing to lighten _this_ , because this was too personal. He smiled, a soft smile that made the lines around his eyes crinkle. 

"What I'm trying to tell you, Mac, is... don't ever settle. When you fall for someone, you make sure they are the one you want to wake up beside fifty years from now."

"How did you know Cas was the one?" It felt strange calling him Cas after all this time, but her father was talking to her like an adult... like an equal, so somehow it fit.

"That's easy," he said, his eyes back on Cas now. "I didn't want to sleep because my reality was better than any dream could be. Being near him made be happy. Seeing him across a room made my heart beat faster. God, I sound sappy."

"No, Daddy, you sound like a man in love."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "That I am, baby girl." He took her hand in his and tugged. "Let's get you back to your guy." As they drew close to their group, he leaned over. "Just so you know, Cas and I played rock, paper, scissors. I got you, Cas got Jack." A look of horror filled her face and he laughed. Cas looked up and smiled at his husband. Mac saw the way they locked eyes, sharing some secret language all their own. She'd have that one day. Maybe with Jack... maybe with someone else, but she wouldn't settle until she found the person who would look at her just that way. 

  



End file.
